Cyclone
by kiwiifeather
Summary: Book/Part 3 of a reboot of an old story covering the adventures of five warrior clans as they face a grave new challenges both from the outside and within. Set in New Zealand in present day. Rated T for canon typical levels of violence and the occasional cuss ;)
1. Allegiances & Clan Guide

**AN: _Stop!_ Have you read part 1 and 2 of this story yet?! Land of the Long White Cloud (Part 1) and The Coming Storm (Part 2) are vital to read_ first_!**

**If you have done so, first, thanks for sticking around! Second, remember to check in with the story tumblr "kiwibattlecats" for extra lore and character designs, art and information! Finally, then please, read on and enjoy Part/Book 3 "Cyclone"! :)**

**CLAN ALLEGIANCES & GUIDE**

**FERNCLAN (31) - **_To the east of the lake and across the river from Marshclan territory are the forest-dwelling and prosperous Fernclan; generally honourable cats that follow the warrior code and that value honesty and loyalty. Their foliage lush territory is long but narrow following the river to the west and cliffs to the east. Their land stretches from the dirt thunderpath by Steep-Rise to a thin point meeting with Gorseclan. The river is often a site of border skirmishes with Marshclan, particularly in summer when the river has dried up. Up on top of the cliffs is a field where twolegs keep their sheep and is not part of clan territory; though sometimes cats will make the somewhat dangerous climb up the cliffs for the view. While nothing is stopping them from hunting there the forest is usually prey-rich and with the risk of the climb there is no need. The sheltered Fernclan camp is roughly in the centre of their territory; backed up against the cliffs on one side and surrounded by undergrowth on the other, it is easy to defend.__Flamestar is an experienced and well-regarded leader. __**Twoleg activity within their borders is increasing, and as of newleaf, beginning to diminish prey numbers.**_

**LEADER: **Flamestar- a red ticked tabby tom with green eyes and a silvering face. 5 lives left. Mate of Willowwind.

_Apprentice: Birdpaw_

**DEPUTY: **Earthshatter- a large, heavyset chocolate mackerel tabby tom with hazel eyes. Mate of Duckwing.

**MEDICINE CATS:** Sheepfur- a small white she-cat with thick long fur and yellow eyes.

Stormgust- silver spotted tabby and white tom with amber eyes.

**WARRIORS: **Beetlepelt- a black tortoiseshell bicolour she-cat with an interesting coat pattern and blue eyes.

_Apprentice: Lichenpaw_

Willowwind- black silver mackerel tabby she-cat with a lithe form and orange eyes. Mate of Flamestar.

Duckwing- black silver ticked tabby and white she-cat. Amber eyes. Mate of Earthshatter.

Graniteclaw- black tom with amber eyes and large thick claws. Mate of Tuisong.

_Apprentice: Barkpaw_

Tuisong- shiny black smoke classic tabby she-cat with piercing blue eyes. Mate of Graniteclaw.

Lizardfang- fawn spotted tabby bicolour tom with green eyes. Mate of Riverrun.

Riverrun- dark blue tortoiseshell she-cat with a semi-long coat and green eyes. Mate of Lizardfang.

Wrenfeather- red silver ticked tabby she-cat with angular features and hazel eyes.

Grasstail- cinnamon silver ticked tabby tom with angular features and hazel eyes.

Silverheart- black silver mackerel tabby and white tom with green eyes. Mate of Roseear.

Shadestorm- powerful seal point with white tom with blue eyes.

_Apprentice: Ashpaw_

Sparrowcrest- solid chocolate she-cat with a white spot on her chest and large ears. Green eyes.

Keasong- black classic tabby and white she-cat with green and amber flecked eyes. Mate of Rowanfall.

Lionmane- cream spotted tabby tom with hazel eyes, a nicked ear and thick fur.

Frostfire- solid white tom with one blue and one green eye.

Blackclaw- big black and white tom with all black feet and yellow eyes.

**APPRENTICES: **

Birdpaw- chocolate ticked tabby tom with amber eyes.

Barkpaw- black silver mackerel tabby and white tom with green eyes.

Ashpaw- black she-cat with blue eyes.

Lichenpaw- black smoke spotted tabby and white tom with pale green eyes.

**QUEENS: **Roseear-lilac tortoiseshell bicolour with blue eyes. Mate of Silverheart. Kits: Specklekit (black tortoiseshell bicolour she-cat with blue eyes), Greykit (grey mackerel tabby tom with green eyes) and Woodkit (lilac classic tabby and white tom with green eyes).

Chilleye- young blue-eyed white she-cat with long legs and pelt. Mostly deaf. Lives with Queens full time and helps look after kits and nursing queens.

**ELDERS: **Firefang- red ticked tabby tom with hazel eyes. Oldest cat in all clans.

Nighttail**\- **black she-cat covered in battle scars. Green eyes.

**GORSECLAN (38) -** _South of Fernclan and with cliffs to the east and Fieldclan to the west, with unknown lands further south, Gorseclan is a generally a brave and strong-willed, if slightly prickly clan of cats. Their territory is mostly full of scrub and rocky outcrops with the odd small, rough tree, and this, along with a set of twoleg beehives found just outside their territory to the south, is what is blamed by other clans for the constant pointy thing clearly kept up their tailfur. Fortunately, as they are the bottom of clan territories with only a small border with Fernclan and the other with peaceful Fieldclan; however, they are still causing trouble. Their southern border has expanded._ _Their camp is found backed up against the cliffs; like Fernclan, though it is at the southern point of their territory, with the outside surrounded by dry gorse, broom and bramble. If the entry tunnels are blocked, the camp becomes nearly impenetrable. Icestar took over after the premature death of the last leader. He is a strong, experienced warrior, __**but has recently started trying to expand his territory, taken in several rouges and is causing conflict with other clans to the point of desiring them to join or be destroyed by him, in some kind of drive to gain power out of fear of a mysterious destruction foretold to him by Starclan. He has already succeeded in destroying Gustclan, with many of the clan's cats now under his control between himself and "Clawclan".**_

**LEADER:** Icestar- muscular, nearly pure white tom with black ears, a scarred face and orange eyes. Also has a scar on his neck. Mate of Sorrelfur. 8 lives.

_Apprentice: Rookpaw_

**DEPUTY**: Sorrelfur- lilac silver spotted tabby and white she-cat with green eyes. Mate of Icestar.

_Apprentice: Honeypaw_

**MEDICINE CAT:** Longtail- blue spotted tabby tom with an unusually long tail and hazel eyes and a large scar across his face, blinding him in one eye.

_Apprentice:_ Venompaw- former rouge. A black spotted tabby van tom with amber eyes and a stumpy tail.

**WARRIORS: **Thickstripe- large, thick-bodied black mackerel tabby tom with bright yellow eyes.

_Apprentice: Silverpaw_

Smudgepelt- unusually marked seal tortoiseshell sepia with white she-cat; has a large dark patch on face, causing her stunning blue eyes to stand out.

_Apprentice: Pebblepaw_

Hornetclaw- cream ticked tabby and white tom with fierce amber eyes.

_Apprentice: Cavepaw_

Creampelt- cream spotted tabby queen with long fur and hazel eyes. Mate of Smokeblaze.

Smokeblaze- solid blue tom with orange eyes. Mate of Creampelt.

Windheart- silver seal tabby point tom with a white chest and paws and blue eyes. Mate of Flowerdust.

Runninghorse- black bicolour she-cat with amber eyes.

Flowerdust- cinnamon silver ticked tabby with striking green eyes. Mate of Windheart.

Ruffledmane- thick, messy-furred lilac ticked tabby tom. Mate of Mottletail.

Mottledtail- long-haired black tortoiseshell smoke she-cat with light green eyes. Mate of Ruffledmane.

Dartwing- thick furred caramel-shaded tom with green eyes and a distinctive ruff around his neck.

Spiderstreak- tall black tom with green eyes; a former rouge.

_Apprentice: Applepaw_

Dappledshade- chocolate tortoiseshell bicolour she-cat with ice-blue eyes.

Mistheart- chocolate smoke point tom with blue eyes.

Hedgefur- tiny fluffy black bicolour tom with amber eyes.

**APPRENTICES: **

Pebblepaw- solid grey/blue tom with hazel eyes.

Honeypaw- cream ticked tabby she-cat with orange eyes.

Rookpaw- solid black she-cat with amber eyes. Stolen as a kit from Gustclan.

Silverpaw- silver classic tabby she-cat with green eyes.

Applepaw- cinnamon silver ticked tabby tom with green eyes.

Cavepaw- seal-pointed tom with blue eyes.

**QUEENS: ** Hare- brown ticked tabby queen with a stumpy tail and green eyes. Former rouge. Kits: Boarkit (brown mackerel tabby tom with one white paw, hazel eyes and a thick pelt) and Oakkit (russet classic tabby and white tom with green eyes and a stumpy tail).

Darkstreak- Black silver smoke van she-cat with semi-long fur and amber eyes. Prisoner formerly of Gustclan. Kit: Mosskit (ginger van tom with semi-long fur and hazel eyes).

Goldwind- pale red shaded she-cat with white paws and green eyes. Damaged back leg causes permanent limp. Prisoner formerly of Gustclan. Kits: Whiokit (pale blue spotted tabby and white she-cat with blue eyes), Berrykit (ginger ticked tabby tom with small rounded ears and green eyes) and Wispkit (white she-cat with green eyes and soft, semi-long fur).

**ELDERS: **Clayclaw- still intimidating cream smoke tom with hazel eyes.

Smallstep- one-eyed she-cat; black silver ticked tabby with amber eyes. Oldest cat in clan.

**OTHER: **Larkcry- leggy fawn spotted tabby tom with hazel eyes. Mate of Blackhorse. Prisoner formerly of Gustclan.

Racingbreeze- lilac tortoiseshell and white she-cat with blue eyes. Prisoner formerly of Gustclan.

**FIELDCLAN (27) -** _These gentle, unobtrusive but determined cats have the most borders shared with another clan of any of the five clans found by the lake; only to their south are there no clan cats; marked by a twoleg fence and the large cattle often found on the other side of it. To the north is Marshclan along with the Great Hollow where gatherings take place, to the west Gustclan, and to the east Gorseclan along with the very tip of Fernclan's southern border. Having so many other clans at their doorstep can make these cats a little nervous, but they do their best to avoid trouble and are can summon unexpected ferocity to defend their home, loved ones and clan. Their land is mostly open, lush grass and flower fields, along with a pine forest on their western side. Their territory prized for growing ingredients for medicinal uses. Within the pines where their camp is found, hidden in a pile of fallen pines and the undergrowth that has grown up around them. __**Heronstar has recently taken over as leader after Murkstar was injured due to being shot by a twoleg; damaging the use of his back legs. The clan succeeded in driving back a raid by "Clawclan" but now must decide their next move… Twoleg presence has increased within their borders, and they have begun planting trees in their field.**_

**LEADER:** Heronstar- blue bicolor she-cat with very long legs and blue eyes. 9 lives.

**DEPUTY:** Spiralfoot- caramel smoke bicolor tom with a twisted front right paw and green eyes. Mate of Brightwind.

**MEDICINE CATS: **Deerspot- cinnamon spotted tabby and white she-cat with green eyes.

Lakegaze: compact black classic tabby tom with hazel eyes.

**WARRIORS:** Hedgewhisker- tabby point she-cat with blue eyes and long expressive whiskers.

Blueshine- blue silver tabby van queen with blue eyes. Mate to Murkstripe.

Waspsting- large fawn shaded van she-cat with blue eyes.

_Apprentice: Skinkpaw_

Needleclaw- lilac silver classic tabby tom with razor sharp claws and hazel eyes.

_Apprentice: Springpaw_

Fantail- bushy tailed black bicolor she-cat with yellow eyes.

Possumtail: shaded black/brown ticked tabby tom with a white muzzle, white front paws and a dark bushy tail. Yellow eyes.

_Apprentice: Earthpaw_

Batear: black tom with very large ears, short tail and legs, brown shading over hindquarters and a white muzzle. Yellow eyes. Large nick in right ear.

_Apprentice: Leapingpaw_

Gorseheart- fawn ticked tabby harlequin tom with hazel eyes.

Poppypelt- apricot tortoiseshell van she-cat with blue eyes.

_Apprentice: Petalpaw_

Kiwifeather- chocolate tabby tortoiseshell she-cat with green eyes.

Bushtail- fawn bicolor tom with amber eyes.

Snowthaw- seal lynx-point rosette snow Bengal she-cat with blue eyes. A former kittypet.

**APPRENTICES:** Springpaw- compact black tom with a white tail tip and yellow eyes.

Leapingpaw- blue mackerel bicolour she-cat with hazel eyes.

Skinkpaw- blue tabby van tom with white toes and blue eyes.

Earthpaw- dark chocolate smoke van tom with hazel eyes.

Petalpaw- blue spotted tabby bicolour she-cat with green eyes.

**QUEENS: **Brightwind- lavender queen with amber eyes. Mate of Spiralfoot. Kits: Palekit (lavender bicolor she-cat with green eyes) and Owlkit (chocolate tom with amber eyes and a fluffy coat)

**ELDERS:** Houndleg- tall silver classic tabby bicolor tom with yellow eyes.

Murkstripe- dark mackerel tabby smoke tom with large tufted ears, one white toe and hazel eyes. Former leader who retired after being shot; mostly paralyzing his hindquarters. Mate of Blueshine.

**OTHER:** Fang- green-eyed ginger tom with large teeth and a stocky build. Back legs and face are badly scarred, including a torn lip further exposing his large canine tooth. A rogue prisoner.

**MARSHCLAN (21) -** _Proud and quick-witted Marshclan cats are known mostly for their skill in navigating water and boggy terrain, along with being rather a defensive lot that are easily provoked. Their territory is largely swamp, with some forest and open grassland on their border to the east with Fernclan just before the river. The river and strip of grass on both sides of its banks are hotly contested between the two clans and it never seems to be quite clear who owns it. To their south is Fieldclan, and to the west is the Great Hollow. To the north is the lake; their territory wraps around the bottom and westward side of the lake. Technically as Marshclan own the bottom half of the lake as well; they sometimes fish and hunt waterfowl there, particularly along the shallows. A small island in the lake marks the end of their water border. Cats are not supposed to hunt there; it is a nesting place for waterfowl and allows them a safe place to replenish numbers and provide more prey in the future. The Marshclan dens are found beneath the largest weeping willow in clan territory; found near the Fieldclan border, it's branches touch and run along the ground, creating a sheltering curtain. __**Twolegs have begun acting oddly inside their territory. Bogstar has recently taken over the clan after the death of Blueshine; the previous deputy, in the failed Gorseclan raid and then the former leader Swallowstar due to his age and illness in short succession. He is determined to ensure his clan's survival.**_

**LEADER:** Bogstar- tiny white tom with green eyes. Wears his leadership white heron feather woven into his ruff fur. Missing a toe on his right front paw. 9 lives.

_Apprentice: Lightningpaw_

**DEPUTY:** Blackbird- glossy black she-cat with yellow eyes.

**MEDICINE CAT: **Thunderstream- large cinnamon tortoiseshell tabby she-cat with hazel eyes.

**WARRIORS: **Tuataratail- thick tailed caramel ticked tabby tom with amber eyes. Mate of Goosedown.

Clawstrike- apricot classic tabby tom with hazel eyes. Mate of Redblaze.

Kakawing- fawn ticked tabby she-cat with green eyes and a large tear in left ear.

Ratapelt- swift deep red mackerel tabby bicolor tom with amber eyes.

_Apprentice: Windpaw_

Redblaze- red spotted tabby and white queen with green eyes. Mate of Clawstrike.

Mouseheart- timid little brown tabby van tom with orange eyes.

Hawkfang- dark lilac silver spotted tabby tom with a powerful build and hazel eyes.

_Apprentice: Firepaw_

Huiafeather- lilac bicolour she-cat with yellow eyes.

Whitewind- white tom with a long coat and blue eyes.

**APPRENTICES: **Lightningpaw- apricot smoke she-cat with green eyes.

Firepaw- red mackerel tabby tom with green eyes.

Windpaw- apricot spotted tabby and white she-cat with hazel eyes.

**QUEENS: **Goosedown- grey-blue and white she-cat with luxurious long fur and orange eyes. Kits: Hihikit (black and white she-cat with a semi-long coat and orang eyes), Sandkit (cameral classic tabby tom with white chest and green eyes) and Ternkit (thickset grey tom with hazel eyes).

**ELDERS: **Leopardtail- black spotted tabby she-cat with orange eyes. Oldest cat in Marshclan.

Oakfur- red classic tabby and white tom with green eyes.

Barkfoot- black smoke tabby tom with dark feet that look constantly muddy and green eyes.

**CLAWCLAN (ROUGE GROUP) (17): **_After the defeat of Gustclan, the partnership between the rouge group and Gorseclan came out in the open. True to his word to Sting, Icestar offered the group a territory of their own; south of Gorseclan's borders wrapping around the base of Fieldclan's and stretching up into what used to belong to Gustclan. The territory's nature is very similar to Gorseclan's (largely a mixture of field and rocky scrubland, with the river cutting through its centre). It is likely that the size and shape of the territory is intended to change as more clans are brought under Icestar's ultimate leadership. Icestar has had some of the former Gustclan cats go to live under the group, due to limitations of space at Gorseclan, while Sting found additional cats to bring into his ranks. After the resounding defeat at Fieldclan, Graves took over from Sting, and has taken on some aspects of clan organisation (though the group does not follow the warrior code and it's still much looser in nature; as an example the two ex-Gustclan apprentices are taught by all cats and do not have a single mentor) since being given a territory. Clawclan is the group's name, chosen with amusement by Sting. As he doesn't believe in Starclan, Graves does not have extra lives nor is interested in attempting to gain them despite his ailing health. He is more than capable with just one, in his humble opinion… He won't meet Sting's fate. He's smarter._

**LEADER: **Graves- sleek grey tom with a thin, patchy pelt and pale-yellow eyes. Mate of Cherry.

**SECOND: **Flax- scarred classic brown tabby and white she-cat with green eyes.

**HEALER:** Fallheart- fawn classic tabby and white she-cat with hazel eyes and shredded ears. Prisoner; former Gustclan medicine cat. Acting healer for rouge group.

**FIGHTERS: **Cherry- dark ginger and white she-cat with hazel eyes and a long pelt. Mate of Graves.

Grey- pale grey bicolour tom with green eyes.

Scree- dark spotted and white tabby she-cat with amber eyes.

Slash- long-clawed white tom with a single black patch on his spine and yellow eyes.

Mist- dark grey-blue shaded she-cat with greenish-orange eyes and a scar across her head above her left eye, along with scratch scars across her side. Former loner.

Luna- white long-haired tom with pale yellow eyes and an old, tattered collar. A former barn cat from a nearby vineyard; altered.

Princess- a seal-pointed long-haired she-cat with blue eyes and white paws; of the Ragdoll breed. Slightly cross-eyed. A former kittypet from the nearby vineyard homestead.

Captain- young cream and white Persian tom with orange eyes. A former kittypet from the vineyard homestead; altered.

Tussock- pale ginger tom with green eyes. Former loner.

Ferretstrike- seal-pointed tom with blue eyes. Formerly of Fieldclan.

Blackhorse- Ebony she-cat with a white nose snip and yellow eyes. Prisoner, formerly of Gustclan. Mate of Larkcry.

Rabbitpelt- sleek black silver ticked tabby bicolour tom with green eyes. Prisoner, formerly of Gustclan.

Pinepaw- smoke spotted tabby tom with yellow eyes. Prisoner, formerly of Gustclan.

Daisypaw- fawn classic tabby and white she-cat with hazel eyes. Prisoner, formerly of Gustclan.

**CATS OUTSIDE CLANS:**

Moonfall- Guardian of Starfalls. A blue silver and white classic tabby she-cat with a long, flowing coat and blue eyes.

Jock- resident farm-cat from nearest two-leg property that occasionally ranges near clan territory; a handsome long-haired black bicolor tom with yellow eyes.

Lila- kittypet at Jock's farm. Grey she-cat with yellow eyes and a long pelt. Former rouge. Altered.

Rowanfall- deep shaded red ticked tabby tom with dark green eyes and a semi-long pelt. Formerly of Gorseclan; currently resident at Fernclan. Mate of Keasong.

Drakewing- black bicolour tom with slightly curled fur and orange eyes. Formerly of Gustclan; currently resident at Fernclan.

Finchstar- black harlequin she-cat with semi-long fur, a scarred throat and green eyes. Former Gustclan leader; currently resident at Fernclan. 5 lives left.

Rockfang- dark grey tom with a white blaze on face and chest and orange eyes. Former apprentice medicine cat of Gustclan; currently resident at Fernclan.


	2. Prologue

**AN: ? THese ArENT CAts?**

A woman sitting at a desk stretched, raising her arms up over her head. It had been a long day, but there was still more to do yet before she went home. She yawned. The little portable office they'd set up on the old campground site was hot, even in spring temperatures. It was making her more tired, she was certain.

Laid out on the desk in front of her was a map of the valley reserve around the dam. It was her job to plan their next planting location, now they'd gotten the much-needed funding… Volunteers and a few trees weren't going to get them very far very fast but being able to pay for more native plants and people for their time should move things along better. This was already a long enough term project without delays right in these early stages.

The plan to turn this old farmland-turned-recreational reserve into a wildlife sanctuary was an ambitious one, but an ambition confirmed possible by precedent. The local naysayers annoyed they'd lost a place to park up and drink or walk their dogs would get over it if they one day had a place like the Karori Sanctuary on their doorstep. A predator-proof, predator-free, "mainland island" filled with native biodiversity.

The was already some pristine old beech forest left, hidden in all the weeds and introduced willows, along with plenty of riparian flax near the lake and the marshland surrounding it. Some native birds had been found in the bird count, but low numbers to be expected with all the pests around and lack of suitable habitat. There were however, a few rarer waterbirds such as grebes breeding at the site. It had a lot of potential in the long run, once it had been cleared of pests and weeds, fenced and re-planted.

A knock on the doorframe had her turn her head. "Any luck deciding?" A young man spoke from the entrance, leaning casually on the frame.

"I'm thinking that big overgrown paddock near the pine forest. It's nice and flat with easy access." She tapped the spot on the map of the valley. "What's up? He wouldn't have come over here just to ask that.

"Speaking of that area, we just got back the camera trap footage we set up after those pest control guys shot the feral there while surveying."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, and it's caught more cats on it. At least six different individuals, but there could easily be more."

"Wonder if they're from the same colony in the forest…?" She sighed. Damn, this place had such a huge feral cat problem. Probably stemming from dumped pets, bloody irresponsible… It would be a big job clearing them out, and sure to provoke some outrage from cat-loving members of the public. Pest control of feral cats was always controversial.

The man shrugged. "Maybe, these things can have big ranges, but some of them were definitely different by the coat colour."

"No sign of the Bengal?" The pest control guys had come across a purebred, assumedly dumped pet too, but when they tried to pick it up it had freaked out and run off. It was possible it had integrated into the colony, but still showed some friendly behaviour.

"Not on here. Has the committee decided what they want to do about that?" She could understand the question; if the public found out they'd killed someone's pet… It was bad publicity the fledgling project didn't need, considering the uproar already going on about the planned poison drop.

The woman worked a pencil in her fingers. The project committee had argued about it for a while but had come up with a fair compromise for the situation. "Humane cat traps. We've got some time before the fence is done and we can start pest control in earnest anyway. We'll see what we catch. Anything young enough or friendly enough to be salvageable can go to the SPCA who've agreed to take them on. They've got willing foster homes. Anything totally feral we'll euth… And after that, the cat kill-traps will go down when we drop the 1080."

The man nodded, mildly sombre. Nobody liked killing the pests, but it had to be done. "When's the fence scheduled to be done?"

"Now we've got some decent funding, a couple of months, maybe. In the meantime we are going to keep up with the weed removal, tree planting and trapping for the smaller stuff like mice, rats and stoats." The predator proof fence was easily their biggest expense between materials and construction of such a large thing to encircle the whole valley. But once it was up, they could eliminate all the pests inside knowing nothing more would get in. And when there was more native plant life established, they could start introducing some rare species.

The pencil continued to twirl thoughtfully in her hands. It was a big job; a long term dream, but the end result of it would be worth it. Native birdsong would fill this valley, and it would be a treasure to pass onto the next generation.


	3. Chapter 1

**AN: And here's our first new POV character, Rookpaw!**

It was dark, and Rookpaw felt strange… floaty… but it was familiar.

She looked down at her paws and noted she could see through them to the stone below her pads, ever so slightly.

Ah. This again.

It was then that the young black she-cat took in her surroundings properly; orange eyes flicking this way and that in the gloom. It was the inside of a cavernous area. A den, judging by the odd bit of shed white fur, and old nest material waiting near the entrance to be cleared away. Outside the cave mouth was a slivery sky; the thick stripe of stars known as the River of Starclan clear to see in the ebony around it.

The smells were familiar; of home. What lay beyond was Gorseclan's camp, deep in the night. Rookpaw could not feel if it was cold or warm, nor those rock beneath her feet. The one sense robbed of her.

Voices. Rookpaw's ears twitched in their direction, deeper into the den. There was only one den this could be; made of stone in this camp, one that was unfamiliar to her. This was the leader's den…

One of the voices was timid, the other deep and impatient. Both familiar.

Icestar growled with annoyance at Longtail, while Rookpaw drew closer to the back of the den where the sound was coming from. She did not fear the cats hearing or seeing her. They never did. Normally she would be far to shy to try eavesdropping on such a conversation, but experience told her she had no reason to worry.

"Get to the point already!" Icestar spat as the medicine cat tried to stammer out something. "You better have woken me for a good reason!"

Rookpaw peered around the lip of the cave wall. Icestar sat up in his nest; fur ruffled in a way that spoke of a cat who had just woken and had not yet had time to groom himself. Longtail hunched submissively before him, ears flat against his head. His one good eye was wide.

The medicine cat had always been nervous in the time Rookpaw had known him, but sometimes the adults said he hadn't been that way before the Fernclan intruder took vision from his other eye and left him scarred. His fear of the leader was clear. He always seemed worse around certain cats, Rookpaw had noticed. She wondered why…

"I…" Longtail's voice was quiet and quick, but he made a clear effort to speak efficiently. "I received a prophecy. You- you always said to bring such news to you immediately so I-"

"What was it?" Icestar growled over top of the explanation, suddenly looking far more interested.

Longtail's namesake flicked back and forth, ever so slightly as it showed his anxiety. "In a dream Starclan said to me "_Starclan's Will is to be Gorseclan's guide._""

Icestar's eyes narrowed, thoughtful, perhaps disappointed. "Is that all?"

"This was all they shared with me." Longtail looked ready to leave. His body was tense, a foot rising into the air.

"I see." The big white tom grumbled. "Starclan's Will…?"

"You speak of doing Starclan's will, Icestar… Perhaps they are referring to your path?" The tabby was trying to creep away even as he made the suggestion in an appeasing tone.

Rookpaw watched as Icestar's claws unsheathed, and Longtail froze with bristling fur.

"Perhaps, indeed." Icestar considered Longtail with a strange expression; irritation, suspicion? Rookpaw couldn't tell before the leader let out a yawn. "Regardless, I tire of looking at you. Get out and speak of this with no-one else."

Longtail dipped his head low as possible, muzzle pressing against the stone of the den floor. "Yes Icestar, of course." He hesitated, almost looking worried Icestar would change his mind, but the other tom had sunk back into his nest, burning eyes still fixed on the medicine cat.

Longtail scampered quickly as Icestar rumbled again. The medicine cat fled right through Rookpaw. She felt nothing, but it was still a strange thing to experience. She turned and watched the tabby vanish out the entrance and into the night; fear scent lingering behind him.

"Cretin." Icestar's dismissive hiss wafted up from behind as he tucked his head back under his tail.

Rookpaw blinked.

…

It was warm, cosy. The stone den was gone, and all around her Rookpaw felt a comfortable warmth. Back in her nest. Or rather… awake.

Another one. Rookpaw didn't understand those dreams really… All she knew was they were _different _no matter how much her siblings or her parents dismissed them as an over-active imagination.

She cracked an eye open. Yep, apprentices den. And her body was solid once again when she look down at her paws. Sunlight was streaming in through the branches above and the wide entrance. Her nest was near the front, so she got all the sunshine first thing in the morning. Her dark fur took it in, and so she was thoroughly warmed up before the day even began. She wasn't looking forward to greenleaf when it got hot though.

Around her, her siblings were stirring. Honeypaw and Pebblepaw were already gone. They were used to the routine, but she and her brothers and sister had only been apprentices for a quarter moon. Judging by the position of the sun outside, they were all late again.

The stomping of heavy, annoyed steps, clued her in.

Rookpaw yawned, waiting for it… 3, 2, 1…

"Are you lot still not up!?" A bark of a voice came from the yellow-eyed tabby head that jutted into the den. Thickstripe looked highly unimpressed. Silverpaw jerked awake beside her at the sound of her mentor's voice. She was the biggest of the litter; the strongest too. Thickstripe had seemed happy with her at first, until he discovered her attitude.

"I'm comin', I'm comin'…" Silverpaw grumbled, blinking sleep from her eyes.

"Wass'it?" Applepaw's head popped up, fur sticking up all over the place in a comical fashion. Cavepaw managed to sleep on. Sliverpaw started jabbing him in the side as Thickstripe rolled his eyes and withdrew to wait outside.

Rookpaw silently rose, and daintily picked her way out of the den just as Cavepaw bolted up to swat Silverpaw in the side. Applepaw started up, throwing in his sarcastically adding his comment. She was not getting involved in this.

Ah, family.

Outside, Thickstripe eyed her while she padded from the den entrance. "They've started off again, haven't they?" He sighed, ears angled towards the growing commotion in the den. Rookpaw nodded meekly, and the big tabby made a strange exasperated noise in the back of his throat before eyeing her. "Well, at least _one_ of us is getting somewhere this morning. Get going to your mentor then; I'm sure he's already waiting at the training grounds."

Dipping her head, Rookpaw scurried off. She was already later than she should be. He'd not be pleased.

The camp was quiet. Dawn patrol would be out still; likely on their way home. Hunters would be out gathering prey. With newleaf came more prey and easier prey in the form of young. And the clan's large size meant it needed all the food it could find.

"Where's your brother, Rookpaw?" Hornetclaw yelled as she trotted by where he was sitting outside the warrior's den, washing himself.

"Awake, sir." She answered quickly, not stopping to chat as she made her way to the exit of camp. Hornetclaw wasn't much for conversation anyway, and her answer didn't look like it made him any happier.

The little black she-cat hesitated as she drew nearer to her destination. She'd have to pass by the prisoners den to leave camp. It creeped her out, that dark hole of wild rose and gorse thorns. It smelt bad too. She didn't know if anyone was there… the prisoners were taken out to hunt and patrol in order to contribute to the clan, sometimes. There was no guard at the entrance; like at the front of the queen's den, so she assumed it was safe.

It didn't stop her creeping past as quickly as possible though. She didn't like it when the Gustclan prisoners stared at her, or hissed insults at Gorseclan cats who passed by.

Once out the camp entrance, Rookpaw broke into a sprint towards the training grounds. She was probably in trouble already, best not make it any worse by being any later. Her mentor was a great cat, but she'd seen his temper a few times. It wasn't to be trifled with.

While she ran, her footfalls rhythmic across the ground, Rookpaw thought of her dream. And of those before them… Perhaps she needed to ask a cat who might take her more seriously about them… weird dreams were usually reserved for leaders, or medicine cats, right?

A little part of her still worried that the others were right though, and that they were just normal dreams that felt more real than her others. She didn't want to waste a cats time… if only there were a way to confirm things…

As she reached the sandy ground where the apprentices trained, she skidded to a halt in front of her mentor, who had, indeed, been waiting. He sat like a stone, but ever part of him screamed of a cat that could erupt into action at a moment's notice.

"You're late." His voice rolled like thunder, and she lowered her head in apology.

"I'm sorry… I was asleep." Rookpaw said softly.

"I expect punctuality from my apprentices, Rookpaw. Do better tomorrow."

She looked up, orange eyes into orange eyes. The scars, the broad face and body. The white pelt. All the same as the angry cat in her dream earlier. Only, the one in her dream lacked the newest scar from a clash with the enemy a few days before; a long thing that raked his shoulders. By all accounts, her mentor has fought bravely, outnumbered two to one.

Rookpaw met that burning gaze as evenly as her nerves allowed. He didn't like her shy attitude.

"Yes, Icestar."


	4. Chapter 2

**AN: POV character number two! **

It was shaping up to be another lovely newleaf day; full of sunshine and birdsong. Newleaf brought with it warmer temperatures, and sometimes nicer weather, but the season was also unpredictable and prone to bad weather just as much as good. The clan took advantage of newleaf days like today.

They'd all be out hunting and patrolling and all the rest that warriors did. Even now, a certain spotted tabby watched a few perform camp maintenance under the watchful eye of their new leader. Well, one couldn't say he wasn't an active and engaged leader. It was certainly an improvement on the last one, at least in the last part of his tenure.

Orange eyes lazily watched the cats in camp moving about. Busy, busy… But not for her… No, these days, a lovely bit of weather like this meant a lot of sunbathing for Leopardtail; sprawled out in a bit of light coming in through the willow's branches that enveloped camp. She was now the oldest cat in the clan, after the passing of Swallowstar; nothing was expected of her whatsoever.

Starclan, what a grim thought.

If the elder were honest with herself, she was bored shitless by doing nothing day after day. She ate, she slept, sometimes spoke to other cats; rise and repeat. It was dreadfully dull after a fulfilling warrior's life. They didn't even seem to think she was able to take a walk by herself anymore.

Dogdung, she wasn't! None of them knew that moons ago she'd taken that kittypet under her wing and done her bit to help her survive. Apparently, she was a warrior now; so she'd heard the gossip. There hadn't been a gathering since the alliance against Icestar and his vermin was raised, but word still got around between the clan's messengers, or patrols meeting on their borders.

_Good for her_, thought Leopardtail. The kit had been a natural and was big and strong. The old cat was happy that she'd done even a small bit to help. She'd always had a bit of a soft spot for the young and helpless. Even if she never saw the former kittypet again, she was proud.

Thinking of her rebellious training of the kittypet just made her more agitated in the end though. Leopardtail's white-tipped tail flicked with irritation against the ground. A low growl came from her throat, drawing the attention of her fellow elders.

Oakfur looked up from his own patch of sun; ginger pelt all but glowing like fire beneath it's light. "What's wrong, Leopardtail?" He croaked. Leopardtail was glad her voice hadn't gone quite as badly as his yet… and frankly the tom's mind was in poorer condition too. He wasn't that much younger than her, but still, she considered herself very lucky.

"I'm bored." She grumbled back with impatience, knowing how kit-like the reply sounded.

"You're always bored, mother." Mudfoot replied with a little wheezing laugh. Her eldest… she'd had him young, but it was only his bad chest that had him already retired. The selfish part of her had been glad for his constant company since he was forced to become an elder early; he was always a loving, nice son… but her heart also broke at his poor health. She shuddered to think he might go before her. Thunderstream had said there was only so much she could do.

"Well, still, I am!" She returned with a little flash of her yellowing and cracked teeth. "Being an elder is possibly the most mind-numbing experience known to cat-kind!"

"Except perhaps being a kittypet?" Mudfoot suggested with a hint of sarcasm.

"Even kittypets sometimes get to leave their dens!" Leopardtail returned, getting to her paws; bones traitorously sore and creaking as she did so. "I'm going for a damn walk."

"Mother…"

"Don't start with me Mudfoot; I birthed you, you don't get to tell me what to do." And off she went without a second pause, tail held high as possible though it drooped a little at the end from an old injury.

A couple of the warriors working on camp eyed her, murmuring to each other. She fixed them with sharp glare and they fell silent. She had not been a warrior for countless moons just to be told what she could and could not do by a bunch of whelps! If she wanted to go for a walk beyond camp, she was going to do so!

She was about to slip through the entrance (the only easily accessible one now, with all the new defences in place) when Bogstar appeared like the ghost he resembled. "Leopardtail." His voice was filled with a patronizing sort of patience. She hissed back at him. She hated how he did that; appearing silently out of nowhere! …And she also refused to believe he could sneak up on her so easily because she was going deaf.

The elder flicked an ear dismissively at her new leader, who was nearly half her size. He had that sacred feather weaved into his thick neck fur; whereas Swallowstar just kept it in his nest… Proclaiming his leadership loudly, huh? Sanctimonious little midget. "Go away Bogstar. I'm sure you have better things to be doing than harassing me."

"Where are you going?" He was undeterred. Most of the clan were used to her sharp tongue, annoyingly.

"For a walk, before I go mad as Swallowstar."

"Swallowstar was your leader and peer; you should speak of the respected dead more softly." Bogstar replied with a light frown.

Leopardtail snorted, flattening her ears at the scolding. "Yes he was those things, but he also went mad as a lark." She had grown up with the fool; they'd been in the nursery together! She could call him whatever she liked! Especially when it was true.

Bogstar moved on, seeing no point in the battle. He was blocking the way out. "You shouldn't go out alone, Leopardtail. It's not safe."

"I'm not so decrepit yet that I'm incapable of walking around the territory I defended since before you were born!" Her bones ached, and she got tired easily compared to the old days, but for now her feet were still sturdy enough. She also wanted to swim. It sounded relaxing and soothing for her… how long had it been since she'd gotten a chance to swim?

"No cat is allowed out alone right now, Leopardtail. It's the rule for everyone." Bogstar stood firm. "Take one of the apprentices with you at least."

"I'd rather kill myself right now." She replied, very seriously. The thought of the loud one in particular was enough to make her _wish_ she was doolally.

The white tom made an impatient noise in the back of his throat, which was exactly the sort of reaction that brought Leopardtail some modicum of satisfaction. She took her role of annoying, grumpy elder very seriously, thank you very much. "Alright, no apprentices. A warrior then. _Please_."

Leopardtail grunted noncommittally.

"Tuataratail!" Bogstar called to one of the clan's senior warriors, who was working on weaving thorns into the new wall around the rim of camp. The task was foreign to Marshclan cats, but Fernclan had sent cats to teach them. Only one still remained; an interestingly marked tortoiseshell, to oversee the project and make sure the Marshclan cats did it right.

The jovial tom bounded over. "Yes, Bogstar?"

"Escort Leopardtail on an outing, would you?" He brushed his tail along the warrior's side as he passed by, almost apologetically, all while the elder leered at them both.

Tuataratail seemed unfazed. "Shall we then?" He gestured out the entrance with a nod of his head.

Ears flat, Leopardtail shoved her way past him in order to be in front and stalked out. Grudging about all this as she was, she would take dealing with the senior warrior trailing along if it meant she could get out of this damn camp!


	5. Chapter 3

Feeling grass and moss and boggy ground that wasn't that of camp underfoot was a blissful sensation for Leopardtail. The sounds, the smells! Yes, even the bog-stench! It was sweeter than the most bountiful flower to her in that moment. Ah, she needed to do this more often!

The elder made good pace at an easy lope; she knew exactly where she was heading. Tuataratail had tried suggesting a route when they left camp, but Leopardtail had quickly and sharply shot him down and told him to shut up and follow her. Tutaratail followed along behind bemusedly.

Even after moons and moons of retirement, the old warrior followed the same path as if she had walked it on patrol yesterday. A winding trail well worn by generations of cat feet; leading them along the Fieldclan border then curving back around towards the lake. It was the long way to where she was going, but the longer this excursion took, the better, as far as she was concerned. In the back of her mind, a part of her was perhaps hoping to catch a glimpse of the ex-kittypet too.

Her bones and muscles loosened with movement after starting off stiff, the elder's body invigorated by the outside world and her rapidly improving mood.

"Fieldclan border." Tuataratail's cautious rumble had her give him a withering glance out one eye.

"I know where the damn border is."

The ticked tom offered an appeasing look. "Of course, Leopardtail. I'm just saying we should be cautious."

"Why, is _Fieldclan_ going to attack us now? I thought they were our allies." Her sniff was dismissive. She really didn't think much of Fieldclan cats overall (her former kittypet "apprentice" non-withstanding, simply because s_he'd_ been involved in teaching her what's what), but then perhaps their new leader Heronstar might shape them up a bit. The she-cat seemed much more sensible.

Tuataratail shook his great head. "Not Fieldclan… there's twolegs hanging around in the grassland, and after what we've been told…" Yes, the reason Heronstar was now in charge… and the nuisance twolegs were making of themselves over in Fernclan too for that matter… Leopardtail had heard about it all. The elders had discussed it among themselves. Such odd behaviour from the twolegs was unheard of in their lifetime. "They can see pretty far, we need to keep low."

Leopardtail snorted sceptically, peering to see if she could catch a glimpse of twolegs out on the field ahead. "I'm not scared of twolegs."

"A cat can't fight back against their death-sticks, so they say." Tuataratail replied gently. "Not even a fiery old thing like you." The elder huffed but lowered herself into an awkward crouch as they neared the border all the same. She wasn't so pig-headed as to be a fool, after all.

Sure enough, as the two cats peered over the ferns and tall grass, out on the open plain there before them, were the twolegs. A fairly large group of them. They carried large sticks, and at first, Leopardtail was worried they were the kind that brought instant death. But no, on closer examination, these ones had large, very flat stones (?) at their ends. They didn't match the description of the death-sticks.

The twolegs were pushing them into the earth, and sending dirt flying. Digging holes like one of their stupid dogs. These stone-end sticks seemed to help them achieve the task their pathetic paws weren't capable of. Young trees that had not been in the field before (Leopardtail's memory was very clear on that front) were scattered around the twoleg group. They put them in the finished holes.

"Mad creatures…" Leopardtail muttered scornfully as she observed. The purpose to it all was lost on her, but then, why did twolegs do anything weird they did? "Fieldclan's problem, whatever it is."

Tuataratail seemed keen to keep moving. "Fernclan's too. They've been having trouble with them ruining their territory; removing plants and adding different ones back in. It's affecting the prey, so I've heard."

"So what, it's a twoleg invasion? I thought our patrols were seeing less, not more." Leopardtail started moving on, creeping along the path by the border. She'd seen enough of the twolegs, and there certainly wouldn't be any Fieldclan cats around here.

Tuataratail widened his eyes slightly with a little chuff in the back of his throat. "You pay attention."

"I don't have much else to do but listen to conversations I have no business hearing. I'm making the most of my ears while they still function."

The warrior chuckled quietly. "Well, it's true. The patrols have been seeing fewer and fewer twolegs. They don't walk their dogs around here anymore. When we do see them, they're always wearing the bright pelts like those ones out there."

"I hear a "but" in there." Leopardtail's voice was tart. She angled herself away from the border now, steps slow and quiet.

She was almost impressed with herself how good her stalking still was; under no illusion she could actually catch prey anymore, of course. The singing birds were almost taunting. The scurrying in the grass of small creatures an insult. She was certain the very least that if the magpies perched atop the tallest willows were capable of speaking cat, they were certainly have some very rude things to say.

"_But_." Tuataratail confirmed, drawing out the word. "We've been seeing them up to odd things here too. A dawn patrol yesterday saw them attaching these weird black boxes to trees near the marsh. We can't put it past them to start messing up our territory too."

"So, enemies all around us, eh? Sounds about right." Life had never been easy for the clans, not even in her hay-day. Things were particularly bad now, but Leopardtail couldn't believe they wouldn't overcome it.

"Icestar's lot is the most pressing issue." The tom's voice had an edge of a growl to it. "We've found rogue scent now and then… Probably trying to spy on us. The death of their leader hasn't knocked them back for long."

"Bah. You warriors clearly need better senses if they're able to spy despite increased patrols!" The old cat shook her head, acting at a loss. "The warriors in my day would have found them and sent them packing with a good few wounds before you lot finished breakfast!"

"The warriors of your generation were mighty, no doubt. But don't count us out just yet! We'll sort this mess out."

"_Eventually_."

"Old cat, would you like an escort back to camp?" Leopardtail leered back at Tuataratail, who feigned innocence. "You look tired."

"Stuff camp. We've yet to go swimming." She set off on a more hurried pace again now they were far enough away from the twolegs, only slowed by the slight limp in her gait. "And then if you're decent enough at it, you can catch me a big fat meal to eat before you drag me back home… I'm sure an esteemed senior warrior of the current generation is at least capable of that much!"


	6. Chapter 4

As Rookpaw went tumbling across the soft sandy earth of the training grounds for the fifth time that day, she reflected that she didn't really enjoy being an apprentice all that much. It wasn't the first time either. She wasn't really that strong, and she didn't like fighting… In hindsight, she'd wonder why Icestar chose her; the dreamy, shy, dainty kit who stayed out of sibling brawls. Strong Silverpaw seemed like a better choice.

He mentor watched her get back to her paws impatiently. "Come on Rookpaw, get focused!" He demanded. "That was an easy blow to see coming!"

"Yes Icestar." She was quick to respond as she steadied herself with a little shake to clear her head. "I'm sorry Icestar." Rookpaw had learned not to make excuses to the leader.

"Don't apologize." The big white tom growled, lowering back into a crouch. "Do better." Rookpaw tried not to look reluctant as she also moved to get ready to pounce again, ignoring how sore and tired she was getting. "Now this time you need to focus on what my body is doing… Where I place my feet. Your problem is you're not paying attention."

Rookpaw could argue her problem wasn't that really, but it would be foolish to voice that. Maybe she was distracted by thoughts of her dreams and the like, but it certainly wasn't the pressing issue.

The young apprentice couldn't say she agreed with Icestar's training methods. She would rather have started learning combat techniques gently, not just being thrown straight into the deep end with the best fighter in the clan.

Rookpaw didn't want to be a disappointment, but it seemed there was no pleasing him with what she was currently capable of. Icestar was a great cat, and to be his apprentice was an honour, but his temper seemed to grow worse every day. He was under a lot of pressure; trying to fulfil the prophecy the other clans seemed so determined to refuse for the sake of their own pride. She just wished he would try and be more understanding of her…

Regardless though, she bunched up her muscles, and launched at him once again.

….

Late that day, Rookpaw followed Icestar back into camp trying not to limp from how bruised she was. He never actually scratched or bit her; not once had he drawn blood in their combat lessons, but it sure didn't mean he went easy on her.

He looked back over his broad shoulders. "Tomorrow we will practice hunting." Icestar grunted. Rookpaw nodded in understanding, internally very thankful it wouldn't be more fighting practice.

They parted off; Icestar heading towards the fresh-kill pile, Rookpaw to her den. She wasn't hungry. Honestly, she just wanted to lie down and rest. As the black she-cat crossed the camp, she felt eyes on her. It was a sensation she hated. A nervous glance had her meet the ice-blue gaze of Dappledshade. Icestar's apprentice before her. The tortoiseshell was watching her with something like curiosity, but one that held a coldness Rookpaw didn't like.

Quickly looking away and marching a little faster towards the den, she wondered if Icestar had trained the older she-cat the same harsh way.

Looking down at her paws in thought, she didn't see Silverpaw in front of her, and so startled when her much bigger sister yowled proudly in her face. "I caught a blackbird today!" The tabby's tail was held all a quiver with excitement. "Oh, my Starclan _look_!" She shoved Rookpaw, nearly knocking her over. "Icestar's eating it!"

The she-cat whipped around to where their two brothers lay in front of the den, grooming each other. "Do you see _that_, mousebrains? The _leaders_ eating _my_ blackbird!"

"I doubt he knows or care who caught it." Cavepaw's response was flat as he paused in his licking of Applepaw's ears.

"Yeah, Silverpaw, you aren't special! I caught a mouse yesterday, and Rookpaw trains with Icestar every day!" Applepaw added snidely.

Rookpaw paused, a paw in the air as she had been trying to sneak around the trio unnoticed to get into the den. "Please don't bring me into this." She begged quietly. She already had a headache coming on without getting involved in typical sibling bickering.

"She's just too modest to brag, unlike you, _fathead_." Applepaw continued at Silverpaw, deciding Rookpaw's direct input wasn't needed when he could just speak for her. The black cat slipped into the den, just as Silverpaw launched at her brother.

Sinking into her nest was blissful, even with all the commotion outside. Tired, sore muscles sighed with relief as the apprentice did. She tucked her paws around the soft bedding of her nest; animal fur and moss, and a few distinct black feathers of differing sizes. The feathers were gifts; her big brother who had been gone a long time gave them to her. One of her earliest memories was his red pelt and him passing her a blackbird feather to play with, a soft voice speaking kindly to her. The voice wasn't his though. It had been a she-cats. A voice she'd never been able to place in the clan since.

Even after he left, for a while, she kept finding feathers outside the nursery; always black. She was certain they were for her; from big brother. It was sad, she didn't even remember his name now... Nobody here dared speak of him and whenever she used to ask, cats would cut her off and say he was a traitor. Flowerdust would look terribly sad. She stopped asking, but never forgot him. She didn't believe a cat who was so nice to her would be a traitor. Eventually the feathers stopped showing up though... She wondered what happened to him.

Rookpaw shut heavy eyes, blocking out the screeching of her siblings.

The dark behind her eyelids offered a place to think, as she tucked her head under her paws in an attempt to quash the noise out as much as possible, taking deep breaths. Icestar's frustration with her training, his snarls at dream-Longtail who spoke of a prophecy; both died away in her thoughts. For once, Rookpaw almost wanted one of her strange dreams to come to her in sleep… She just wanted to try and figure out a way to prove they were real or not. There had to be a way, short of confronting her mentor or Longtail who were the cats who may know about weird dreams…

Her fretting eased as she breathed; in and out, in and out. Her worried thoughts died away, and sleep took her.

…

Her eyes opened again to a patch of scrub forest. This was Gorseclan territory; Rookpaw vaguely recognized it from the tour Icestar took her on during her first day of being an apprentice. Noting the floaty feeling, realizing the last thing she could remember was curling up into her nest, she looked down at her paws. Okay. So, it was happening two nights in a row now. Rookpaw couldn't say if she was pleased about this or not.

"Wait up!" A cat's voice drew her attention. Well that was interesting… This was one she didn't know…

A black-silver she-cat bounded out of the bushes, with cream she-cat and a grey tom in hot pursuit. It was the tom who had called out. The black-silver ticked tabby paused. She did look familiar; that coat colour… unlike the other two… but Rookpaw couldn't place where she'd seen the young cat before.

"Smallpaw, slow down!" The tom meowed again as he reached her side. Rookpaw sat only a catlength away from the three of them, as the cream longhair brought up the rear. The grey looked at the other older cat. "How do you keep up with this apprentice of yours Briarwing?"

"I don't." Briarwing replied with a huff. "Smallpaw, what have I told you about running off during patrol?" She addressed her apprentice directly.

The apprentice tilted her head in a cheeky manner, like she actually needed to think about it. "Not to?"

"Not to." Briarwing repeated firmly. "So, stay where I can see your striped tail, wee nuisance."

"A patrol is no time to go running off; you don't know what's out there." The grey tom added. "Especially with the issues with Fieldclan."

"Fieldclan don't scare me!"

"Well they should!" Briarwing hissed. "Poor Falconfeather nearly got his ear torn clean off in that last skirmish. Do you want to have your ears torn off?"

"No!" Smallpaw covered her an ear with a forepaw, horrified.

"Then do as Raincloud and I tell you." Smallpaw nodded enthusiastically, and the patrol headed off again.

Rookpaw watched them go before getting to her paws. She could see Smallpaw had already moved back into the front. It brought a small smile to her, even though she didn't know these cats.

This was worth following along with. There had to be a reason, right? Rookpaw padded after them.


	7. Chapter 5

Rookpaw trailed the patrol at an easy pace. She never got tired in these dreams. The ache of her body from her training was gone too.

So far, nothing of particular interest had happened. A regular patrol, by all accounts. They walked, they marked the borders, looked for anything suspicious and so on. Smallpaw had to keep being called into check, but things were otherwise peaceful. Rookpaw had found the walk at least mildly interesting… Some of the trees were smaller than before; plant life there or not there compared to the Gorseclan territory she knew. It was also very dry; the sunlight beating down oppressively, the grass around them brown. If she could feel, the black cat was sure it would be uncomfortably hot. It had to be greenleaf; and one where it had not rained for a while.

Yet despite the peace around the patrol, Rookpaw felt a sense of foreboding in the air. Not all of her strangely real dreams had been significant, but she felt like this one _was_… Nothing had happened. But something was _going to_.

"Fieldclan border ahead. Keep low." Raincloud said as he dropped into a creeping stalk, the two she-cats behind him following suit. Rookpaw wondered if he was a senior warrior, while she reminded herself that she didn't need to crouch too. He had many scars, and a silvering muzzle that spoke of a cat that had moons of experience behind him.

Briarwing moved softly across the ground. She was young and beautiful. A cat that was probably a newer warrior… Smallpaw likely her first apprentice. The little she-cat herself had eyes glowing with excitement. Rookpaw wondered how long she had been an apprentice for.

Curious, Rookpaw decided to look up ahead of the patrol. The fence that marked the Fieldclan border lay ahead, yet the border marker's scent wasn't there; instead it lay just on the other side of an empty river. So, this Gorseclan had a little less territory than the one Rookpaw knew.

In the distance, on the other side of the fence, Rookpaw could see the tall shape of a twoleg. She had only seen one once before. When Icestar was showing her the territory, she saw one tending to the beehives in the south. Icestar had warned her to be wary of them, and so instinctively she found herself lowering her body like the patrol that was approaching her.

Silly, she thought with a little shake of her head as she got up again after remembering where she was. _They can't see me. _Cats couldn't, so why would a twoleg? Embarrassed at herself just a little, she looked around some more. She couldn't see any Fieldclan cats, but then they could be hiding in the tall grass of their territory… The slight breeze blew the patrol's scent towards the border, not the other way around. The conditions made Rookpaw worry that there was a Fieldclan group ready to ambush the little patrol.

And then something caught her eye; a shadow, quick movement. Rookpaw looked back towards the twoleg. It was still pretty far away, ambling along. But what was rushing at speed towards them in front of that twoleg sent Rookpaw's blood running cold.

Dogs. Two dogs. A small scruffy one not much bigger than a cat was ahead; a big, muscular brindle thing thundering behind with a long tongue hanging from huge jaws.

Rookpaw hoped that neither would notice the patrol, who were still oblivious to their presence behind her. They couldn't see them; they couldn't smell them with the wind blowing the other way.

The scruffy one stopped by the fence, head turning towards the cats. Beady eyes almost seemed to stare right at Rookpaw, and she found herself holding her breath in fear. Drool wetted a hairy muzzle as the small dog sniffed. It's ears came up, causing the bigger one's attention to be drawn too. They started getting through the fence.

No. No, no, no, no, no! Rookpaw turned and ran back down the slope that met the riverbed toward the patrol. "Run!" She cried in vain, knowing they couldn't hear her. "Run, _run please_! There are dogs; you have to _run_!" Her yowls didn't reach them. It was the twoleg yelling fruitlessly that did.

"What was that?" Smallpaw perked her ears up as Rookpaw got to their sides, reaching frantically with paws that just went right through their solid forms.

"You have to run! You have to go now!" The cat who was not really there continued to cry desperately. "_Please_!"

"Sounds like a twoleg." Raincloud grunted. His ears swiveled. He could likely hear the dogs as they approached. He raised his body up so he could see over the grass. He looked up to meet the gaze of the smaller dog, only catlengths away. "DOGS!" His screech pierced Rookpaw like a claw. The patrol took off, leaving gouges in the ground with haste of their movement.

"Run Smallpaw!" Rookpaw heard Briarwing cry over the dog's excited yips and growls. "Don't stop running! Get up a tree!" The patrol split off into different directions. The big dog followed Raincloud, the hairy one shot after Briarwing.

Rookpaw didn't know what to do. She had found herself frozen when the dogs passed by her. A shaking ball of hair. If she was really here, she would be dead. As it stood, the beasts ran by her. To them, she was an invisible ghost, cursed only to watch.

The heartrending scream from Raincloud as the big dog tore him apart, over the twoleg's distant shouts, was something that she'd never forget.

Rookpaw had to look away. She had to run away on stumbling paws. She went in the direction the other two had gone. The air was thick with fear and blood scent.

She watched as Briarwing made it up the nearest tree; scrambling and leaving bits of bark to tumble down to the barking mutt below. The little dog whined as it looked up at her hissing form, jumping to try and reach her a few times.

To her horror, Rookpaw then noticed Smallpaw had come back. She saw her dark head poking out of the bushes nearby, watching her mentor with wide eyes. "No, you idiot!" Rookpaw yowled, knowing it was pointless. "Go away!"

The dog circled the tree a few times. Briarwing then saw Smallpaw too. "Smallpaw _no_! I told you to _run_! Get out of here!" She screeched at her apprentice. "Before it smells you!"

The dog looked up the tree at Briarwing's yowls, tilting its head, nose working away. Yet Smallpaw seemed unable or unwilling to move. "_GO_!" Briarwing and Rookpaw yelled in unison.

That seemed to jerk the ticked tabby into action, and she turned. But the rustle of the shrubbery around her caught the dog's ear, and it noticed her striped tail vanish. It went after her with another high-pitched bark. "Smallpaw it's coming!" The mentor cried after her apprentice. Rookpaw could see how conflicted she was. Come down and risk her own life to try and help, or sit there and wait and hope? It was a choice Rookpaw would wish on no cat. Briarwing, with clenched teeth, chose to wait, digging her claws into the tree with frustration, so Rookpaw followed instead.

She couldn't help; she couldn't get hurt either… But a morbid part of her had to know what happened. Her feet were fleet as the wind, and she caught up with the dog first. Smallpaw wasn't far ahead, and the hairy little creature was gaining. For some reason Smallpaw ran past trees or tall rocks or other means of safety. She had to have just lost her head. All she could think was to run.

Rookpaw prayed to Starclan that she would make it; that the apprentice would get away. But it was a pointless sentiment.

It had all already happened.

The dog latched onto Smallpaw's face when it caught her.

Rookpaw suddenly fell back into blackness as teeth met flesh; the other apprentice's wails fading away.

….

"Would you cut it out!?" Silverpaw's annoyed growl brought Rookpaw back to her senses. Opening her eyes wide, she saw her sister standing over her in her nest, a paw lifted like she'd been prodding her. Outside it was dark.

"I… sorry." Rookpaw mumbled as she tried to get her breathing under control. She was panting, shivering and on edge, like she was still in the dream. "Nightmare…"

Silverpaw leered down at her. "You were flailing and mewing all over the place. You kicked me in the face!"

"Sorry." She repeated, ducking her head with flat ears, consciously aware of how her hackles were still up. "I'll… go get some air."

"Yeah well don't wake me when you come back in!" Silverpaw huffed, flopping back down in her nest. The twitch of Cavepaw's ear next to her made Rookpaw wonder if he was awake too, but he didn't make any move to show it. Further back in the den, Pebblepaw snored next to Honeypaw. Applepaw lay on his back, mouth slightly agape. At least she didn't wake everyone.

In the camp clearing the air was cool, but not unpleasant. The stars shone brightly above in a clear sky; half moon hanging in its centre. It really was the middle of the night.

Rookpaw sat just outside the den, looking skyward while she calmed herself down. In, out, in out. That… that was awful. And she hadn't been able to do anything for those poor cats.

Had that really happened?

None of those cats were familiar to her… only something about Smallpaw nagged at her memory… but the apprentice had surely died like Raincloud…

She was looking across the camp to the elders den when it finally hit her. Why Smallpaw looked a little familiar… of course, she was so _stupid_! She hadn't thought of it before because "small" wasn't an unusual name for a cat… and she looked so different now. Rookpaw had only known her as a withered creature with untidy fur and grey hairs everywhere. But it _had_ to be, there was no way it wasn't!

The one-eyed elder; Smallstep. A cat who never told the story of how she had come to have only one eye. Rookpaw knew; she'd heard every elder story there was to hear. Silverpaw had asked her once, and the elder had spat that it wasn't a story she wished to share.

Rookpaw's dreams were in the _past_. And now, she had a way to prove it.


	8. Chapter 6

**AN: Please note that new chapters may now become more frequent, as I start back for my degree's second year tomorrow! I will still try to update as often as possible, but daily chapters are less likely. :)**

It took days for Rookpaw to both get a chance to, and work up the courage to, speak to Smallstep. Icestar kept her busy, and she also didn't really know what to say to her. It was obviously a sensitive subject, and she also didn't want to give away the fact she'd actually seen what had happened in a dream. After a couple of days pondering (and more being scolded for being distracted) Rookpaw thought she had a good way to approach it.

The perfect chance came along when Icestar told her to hunt for the elders, frustrated with her lack of progress in the fighting department. As he hissed at her to get out of his sight, the little black she-cat gladly obliged. He hadn't taught her a lot of hunting yet; he seemed very combat focused, but with what he had taught her and her own instincts, Rookpaw hoped she would be successful.

Fortunately, either she got lucky with a very dumb thrush, or her instincts and the few lessons kicked in.

Carrying her catch back into camp by the afternoon, she spied Smallstep curled up in the sun outside the elder's den. Clayclaw's tail was just visible hanging in the entrance way. Rookpaw let out a greeting trill as she approached through all the feathers in her mouth; gently placing the bird down in front of Smallstep.

"For us?" The elder rasped with a voice so unlike the one of youthful energy that Rookpaw had heard in her dream. She had never had a problem with the lack of an eye before, but now she found herself staring; an echo of Smallpaw's screams ringing in her ears. She wondered just how Smallstep had survived the attack to still be around today. And what the wound must have looked like fresh. Now there was just a hole, some flesh and grown over fur.

"Yes; Icestar told me to bring you something." The apprentice tried to sound unbothered.

"Ah, that big lump of flesh I call a son remembered us. Sweet." Clayclaw's grumble floated out of the den; cream-coloured head poking out. Once, Clayclaw was clearly as powerful as his two sons; he had the same broad head, and loose skin like it had once held taunt around a lot of muscle. Now though, he was balding and scrawny. "I was starting to think he'd forgotten we existed!"

"Oh, don't start up again with that, you. You'll scare Rookpaw off."

"It's okay…"

Smallstep gave her a little pat with her paw on her own before turning back to show a bit of teeth to the other elder. "Sweet dear is just too kind to say anything."

"Well maybe if she listened she might say something to that mentor of hers!" Clayclaw didn't relent, now crawling so his front half was out of the den. The dead thrush lay forlorn at Smallstep's feet, forgotten. "He sure as heck don't listen to me anymore!"

"Clayclaw!"

"What happened to elders offering sage advice to leaders, I ask you? I'm telling you both, he's going to run this clan into the ground!"

"Starclan, will you stop." Smallpaw rubbed her ears like they were sore listening to the old tom's complaining. Rookpaw just stood there awkwardly; maybe a little interested to hear Clayclaw's opinions on his son's leadership. Why did he think Icestar was running Gorseclan into the ground? She'd never heard anyone complain about what he was doing before! He was leading them to prosperity and glory under the will of Starclan!

"Um." Rookpaw spoke up finally, mustering the courage as Clayclaw kept muttering to himself. "Smallstep, I was missing your stories…" She settled down into a sit in front of the tiny, withered old cat.

"Ah, I love a kit who actually enjoys hearing from their elders. You were always the most attentive of your lot." Smallstep interrupted with a fond chuckle, dragging the thrush a little closer to then toss it over to Clayclaw, perhaps to shut him up with food. "What tale would you like to hear, child?"

"Well, I was actually wondering… what was your mentor like? I don't think you ever told us about them." Rookpaw cursed herself silently, as she very nearly said "her".

Smallstep blinked her one eye, while Clayclaw ripped into the bird. "My mentor? Ah, I suppose its an appropriate subject, now you are a new apprentice…" The elder settled down. "Well now… My mentor was a she-cat named Briarwing."

It was the right name. A name Rookpaw had never heard anywhere else. It took self-control not to take a sharp exhale. She was right… she was right!

"My mate." Clayclaw's grunt through a mouthful of food surprised the apprentice. Briarwing had been Icestar's mother?!

"I thought you were older than him Smallstep?" She was a little confused.

"I am." Smallstep confirmed dryly. "By half a moon. Briarwing _hated_ him as an apprentice… he was damn wild and more of a nuisance than me to boot. She told me to stay away from him because he was trouble!" Rookpaw thought about how cheeky the elder had been in her dream. Clayclaw really must have been a pain to be even more of a nuisance! He sounded like Silverpaw. She was wild and hard to control too.

"I grew out of it." Clayclaw said with a shrug. "I'd been a warrior for a few moons when I won her over with my charm."

"More like she _tamed_ you." The she-cat replied with a snort. "Anyway… Brairwing was very young herself when she got me as an apprentice; a lot of cats thought she was too young, actually. She'd only been a warrior a few moons."

"Why do you think Boulderstar gave you to her then?" Rookpaw asked, curious.

"Boulderstar?" Smallstep shook her head dismissively. "No, sweetling. Boulderstar wasn't leader then. It was old Spotstar."

"Oh, I thought…" Being leader before Icestar, she just assumed… She flatted her ears subconsciously with embarrassment, breaking eye contact with the elder.

"Boulderstar had a very short-lived leadership." Clayclaw growled with disgust after spitting out some feathers. "Maybe he made a record for how quickly he squandered nine lives. My son apparently didn't learn properly from that…"

Smallstep rolled her eye as Clayclaw set off his ranting again, and ignored him, looking back to Rookpaw. "You wouldn't have known." She soothed, obviously noting Rookpaw's body language. "But yes… I don't know why she chose such a young cat to have an apprentice. Perhaps she saw great qualities in Briarwing…" Smallstep sighed. "She was a good mentor. Patient. Thorough. A good teacher. Eventually when I grew some sense I listened better and saw that." There was a faraway look in her eye as she reminisced.

Rookpaw took a deep breath. It was now or never; she needed to be certain. "I apologize if this is inappropriate, and I know you don't like talking about it but… did you lose your eye as an apprentice?"

Smallstep's glassy eye look sharpened immediately and she fixed the apprentice with an uncomfortable stare. Even Clayclaw looked up. The long silence made Rookpaw ready to profusely apologize and slink away, until… "You're an astute thing, aren't you?" The elder said finally. "Yes, I did." Her voice was suddenly heavy. "By not listening to Briarwing, really."

It took a swallow of courage to speak up again. "Can I ask what happened?"

"You just did." Smallstep grumbled. Rookpaw could tell the old she-cat wasn't happy about the conversation's new direction, but she wasn't clamming up or telling the apprentice to go away. "I suppose I can tell you. Just because I like you, Rookpaw. You're a good kit."

Rookpaw dipped her head deeply, then pricked her ears to listen. This was it.

"We were on patrol; only three of us. Briarwing and I, along with…" Rookpaw held her breath, Smallstep shut her one eye, looking pained. "Raincloud. A senior warrior."

She knew it. _She knew it._

Smallstep continued to tell the story in a sombre voice; a tale of exactly what Rookpaw had seen transpire a few nights ago in her dream. The patrol. The border. The twoleg. The dogs.

Raincloud's death, though it seemed that neither Smallstep nor Briarwing had been unfortunate enough to see it. They'd found him afterward.

"And then the small dog came after me." The elder's voice was small as her name by this point. Clayclaw was also sitting in silent attention. Rookpaw imagined he must know the story, but she wondered if he'd ever heard Smallstep herself tell it.

"How did you survive?" Rookpaw wondered, very quietly.

"Briarwing." Smallstep said, gratitude a generation old still clear in her voice. "She came out of nowhere just as the thing latched onto me; barrelled into it with claws outstretched and sent the bastard packing yipping to its twoleg!"

Clayclaw looked proud. Rookpaw was glad Brairwing had changed her mind about staying in the tree. In the end she put her apprentice above herself after all.

"I was pretty badly hurt, but alive. Stoatberry was ancient as the ground, but she fixed me up. Best medicine cat Gorseclan ever had. I was lucky I just lost the eye."

"Well, I'm glad you ended up being okay. It would have been a great shame to have not been able to meet you." Rookpaw said, giving the elder a respectful lick on the shoulder. " I better go before a warrior yells at me for not doing anything, but thank you for telling me all that Smallstep."

"Ah, that's okay love. Just don't go spreading it around now!" With a final nod, Rookpaw took her leave, mind busy with thoughts.

She was _right_. Her siblings and her mother had all dismissed it as an overactive imagination, but they were wrong. They weren't just weird, but normal dreams. They were _real_. Real things that happened in the past.

And now she just needed to figure out why it was happening to _her_.


	9. Chapter 7

Leopardtail quickly made a routine of her morning outing for a walk and swim; accompanied by some warrior or another. She got the impression that Bogstar wasn't entirely pleased about having one of his warriors off looking after her every day, because he unsuccessfully tried to foister her off onto an apprentice three more times before giving up.

At first, the warriors were a bothersome presence, but eventually Leopardtail came to see them in more positive light. After all, she started hearing some interesting titbits of information to spice up her days that she otherwise wouldn't know about. While her body was rapidly aging, her mind was still sharp as ever, and a mind like hers needed something to think about. Clan politics and drama was as good a thing as any.

For example, there was some clear displeasure in the ranks. Not that any cat came out and said as much to her, but she could read between the lines of muttered words, or tone of dislike. Some cats didn't approve of Bogstar's choice of deputy (to be fair, Blackbird was a touch… _odd_), or his actions since becoming leader. Oh, Bogstar himself was a fine cat, a good pick. Nobody was saying that he shouldn't have been chosen, oh no. But Marshclan cats _loved _to complain. They were a picky lot, Leopardtail should know! It was to be expected they were going to scrutinize every little thing. Bogstar, at least, seemed completely unbothered by it all, assuming he knew. Which she was sure he did; he wasn't a fool. And she also was sure that Clawstrike, the loudest and brashest of his detractors, had told him exactly what he thought multiple times. He was a noisy bastard, that one.

It was also to be expected that they didn't like all this waiting around and playing defensive. They were proud, many hot-headed; they wanted to take the fight back to Gorseclan and "Clawclan" (Leopardtail snorted with contempt every time she so much as thought the name the rogues had given themselves) and they also didn't want the help being offered to them by the other clans.

Now, Leopardtail had as much pride as any self-respecting Marshclan cat, but the thought that they could solve this on their own was _stupid_. And she said as much to any cat that voiced such an opinion. She called Clawstrike stupid every time she saw him, in fact. He clearly needed the constant reminder.

It was late afternoon. A gathering would typically be taking place that night; the night of a full moon. But there hadn't been a true gathering since leafbare; when war was declared. Leopardtail had to wonder what Starclan must think of them abandoning a sacred tradition for so long, but perhaps in the circumstances they would forgive them. After all, they hadn't smitten the clans just yet.

The old cat had her head resting on her paws as she watched the comings and goings of the clan out one eye; belly full of a rather tasty duck that had been shared by all the elders. Caught by Lightningpaw, of all cats. At least the little spaz was developing nicely in the hunting skills department, but then Bogstar was a proficient hunter himself. Shame he couldn't pass on his calmer temperament to his apprentice…

A group of cats moving together caught her eye. Bogstar, Blackbird, Thunderstream, the senior warriors all. They were all heading to Thunderstream's den. Presumably a meeting; meetings of more than just a couple of cats were too big for the leader's den. She perked her head up, angling her ears towards them to try and catch some conversation as they walked.

"Mother…" Barkfoot's voice was warning and weary.

"I'm just curious Barkfoot, don't start nagging me." Leopardtail responded, not looking back at her son.

"Then why are you getting up?" So she was.

"Elders should be included in meetings like that. They are in Fernclan and Fieldclan."

"Well they haven't been here as long as I can remember." Barkfoot's voice was already filled with a sense of resignation.

The meeting group disappeared down into the medicine cat den under the great weeping willow's trunk one by one. Leopardtail glanced back at her kit. "Maybe we should be. We have wisdom to offer; more than some of those younger cats put together! You would still be attending yourself if you hadn't had to retire early!" She'd been thinking about this for a while, in truth. All part of her "I'm bored and want to do more" thing.

"It's just the way things are." Barkfoot sighed with a little wheeze, glancing towards the sleeping Oakfur as if worried the raised voices would wake him. "Are you saying we should be more like other clans; what happened to the Marshclan pride you always go on about?" His eyes narrowed.

"I'm old enough to know that there are times when one should admit that there are better ways to do things." She grunted back, not allowing the tom even the smallest victory. "It's foolish to resist change for the better just for the sake of "its always been this way" don't you think?" Once, Leopardtail would have been a cat who would defend never accepting help, never changing Marshclan ways. But getting old gave one a different perspective on things…

"It doesn't matter what I think. That sort of thing is up to Bogstar."

"Well then I'm going to go ask him about it." Leopardtail said decisively, stalking off towards the den.

"_Mother_…!" The urgent hiss from Barkfoot was ignored. He was always a placid tom. He wouldn't physically stop her. Especially if he didn't want to get a swat around the ears!

She felt herself drawing the odd curious gaze as she crossed camp, padding around the base of the tree. From inside the dark hole that led to Thunderstream's den, the elder heard voices.

"We need to propose another strike on the Gorseclan camp, as soon as possible!" Clawstrike… Starclan save them was he considered a _senior warrior_ now?

"Oh yes because the last one went so well…" That was Kakawing. She was sensible.

"To be fair, last time we didn't have Fieldclan with us." Bogstar's moderate voice added. "However, with all the twoleg activity on their territory, moving towards the Gorseclan border may be too risky for them."

"No patrols have seen those twolegs carrying the death-sticks as described to us." Blackbird, the deputy chimed in with her strange toned voice. It had a bizarre lilt that rose and fell with her words. It was musical, like birdsong. "It may be safe."

"Gorseclan will be far better fortified by now, you mousebrains." Leopardtail decided to speak up, as she padded down into the den. Heads all turned to stare, but the elder was undeterred. "Attacking their camp sounds like blundering into _trap_ to me."

"What are you doing here, old timer?" Clawstrike grumbled, shrinking a little as she turned to glare at him sharply. He'd received many a clawing from her over the moons for his insolence.

"Passing on the wisdom I've gained as an _old timer_, brat." She hissed back lightly. "It's about time Marshclan starts making the most of _all_ its cats." She looked back to Bogstar; the tiny white tom a beacon in the dark of the den. He was watching her with a perplexed, mildly annoyed look. She was sure he knew exactly why she was here, and what she wanted. "Why do you think it is that none of the other clans have been attacked since the failed attempt on Fieldclan?"

He blinked. "The rogues have likely been re-organizing; they lost their leader."

"But what _else?_! Icestar has plenty of cats even without the rogues. Come now, I thought you were smart!" Marshstar's tail, did she have to spell _everything _out?

Bogstar's tail flicked; he raised his maimed paw to bat gently at the feather in his mane. He looked down at it in thought. "A trap… They _want_ us to attack them rather than the other way around. They'll be ready for it and then some." He concluded carefully, looking back up at the elder with a little tilt of his head.

"Exactly!" She cried with a lash of her own tail. "I can bet my meals for the next moon that the camp is death for us. Icestar figures we'll get impatient and come for him sooner or later."

"Well then, we don't give him what he wants." Thunderstream grunted in the background, like all of this was incredibly obvious and she'd just been waiting for them to catch up. Leopardtail knew her well enough to figure that it wasn't an act either.

"So what, we just sit here in a stalemate forever?" Clawstrike growled through bared teeth.

"Of course not." Leopardtail scoffed, before ignoring him and focusing back on Bogstar "Tonight, I think you need to ask Flamestar and Heronstar if they know where the rogue camp is."


	10. Chapter 8

Rookpaw watched Icestar lead the patrol out from the entrance of the medicine cat den. She'd been passed off to Longtail to be put to work, while her mentor had something more important to do. Apparently Fernclan scent had been found within their borders two days in a row.

She wondered why he hadn't sent her out with one of the other apprentices, but she wasn't complaining. A break from warrior training really was much appreciated on her part, not that she'd say so to Icestar!

The little black she-cat found it hard to not stare at Longtail as he busied himself around the den, sorting herbs and the like. Now she was certain those particular dreams of her were real events that happened in the past… it made her think about what he'd said to Icestar about the prophecy. In her attentiveness, Rookpaw noticed that the medicine cat was losing hair and was even thinner than his slim form usually was. Stress? He always looked stressed. She had seen him flinch quite visibly when Icestar brought her over to him. She could sympathize.

Longtail paused to mutter something quickly to his apprentice; Venompaw. The young tom then padded over to Rookpaw, as the medicine cat when back about his business. "He wants us to gather herbs." Venompaw told her. He was much older than her; tall and covered in the lithe muscle of a cat grown. If he had been a warrior apprentice, made so at 6 moons, he would be a warrior by now. But Venompaw's circumstances were a bit more unusual. His mother Hare had brought him with her when she joined the clan, and he was already over 6 moons then. He shared his mother's odd stumpy tail, a bit like that of a rabbit. Flowerdust told Rookpaw they were born that way; it always looked like it had been bitten off. One of Hare's new kits had the same tail.

"Okay." Rookpaw replied, a little shyly though trying to sound bright and enthusiastic. Gathering herbs was good! She could do that!

Venompaw spared her little more than a glance as he padded out, expecting her to follow. "We are looking for a couple of things… do you know what catnip and poppy looks like?" He sounded bored, his voice; rich and deep for his age, was flat. But then, on the few occasions Rookpaw saw him, he always seemed so. Bored, and a little frustrated. She wondered if he didn't enjoy being a medicine cat? What she wouldn't give to change places with him. Then she could speak more freely about her dreams, and she wouldn't have to fight.

"Yes." Rookpaw nodded as she followed along behind the tom towards the entrance to camp. She was fairly certain she could pick out both… Near the entrance, a guard was outside the den used to house the Gustclan prisoners. Which meant they were there. Gulp. One in particular always stared at her. It was creepy!

"Good. I'll go get the poppy heads; they're near the Fieldclan border so it's more dangerous." Rookpaw didn't miss the way his ears angled forward as he spoke about that. Was he anticipating and _wanting_ trouble? "You can go get the catnip. It grows near the cliffface not far from camp; just a little bit north from here."

Rookpaw's eyes closed, picturing the location. Yes, there was a huge clump of catnip growing a little away from here… She'd seen it before. "Do you know where that is?" Venompaw's voice held some scepticism.

"I do!" She responded quickly, opening her eyes again and sounding as confident as possible. She didn't want another cat thinking she was useless. She ignored the prisoners' den completely; pretending it wasn't right there. She could already feel eyes on her around Thickstripe's back. The guard grunted at them as they passed by. He must have Silverpaw out hunting today, perhaps?

"Gather as much as you can. Longtail might want you to make multiple trips." He strolled out of the exit, not looking back. "Later."

"Bye!" Rookpaw followed in his shadow, instead turning northward as he headed west.

The scrub forest near camp was peaceful. Fresh newleaf grass growth was bright under the shade of the short trees and thick bushes and soft under paw; the rustling around her spoke of plentiful creatures scurrying around. Maybe she should hunt and bring something back for Longtail? Something to keep in mind, perhaps…

The sunlight coming down was pleasant on her dark fur. Rookpaw took a deep breath, releasing tension she often held in her body throughout the day. Ah, wouldn't it be nice to just curl up in the sun out here? The black she-cat shook the thought from her head. No! She was going to do her job, and she would do it promptly!

The clump of catnip wasn't that hard to find once she got close to the cliffs; all she had to do was follow her nose to the enticing smell. Here, it was shady; larger trees grew in the shelter of the cliffface, even if it was as tall here as it was by the Fernclan border. Her dark pelt blended in well; only her orange eyes gave her presence away easily form a distance.

It was as she was pulling out chunks of catnip in her jaws; the sweet scent sending her head a little bit swimming, that Rookpaw got that feeling of being watched again. She lifted her head up, dropping the catnip into a pile by her feet. Looking around, she could see nobody. Scent was useless with how overpowering the catnip was, and she couldn't hear anything…. But still…

A large feather; black, tipped with white on the end, floated down in front of her face. Rookpaw stared at it stupidly for a moment; surprised by its sudden appearance, before bending to sniff at it. Magpie? She looked up, expecting to see one of the large, rowdy birds in the beech tree above.

Instead, a red ticked tabby tom lay in one of the thick, overhanging branches. Green eyes shone with a fond sort of playfulness. "Long time no see." The cat purred.

Rookpaw stared at him, fur a little on end from the shock of an unknown cat sitting right above her like that. He didn't seem unfriendly…

The tom blinked as she pulled himself up into a standing position. "What, don't you remember me?" He sounded disappointed. "I suppose it was a long time ago; you were so little."

He was familiar… a red-pelted tom… She glanced down at the feather, and it clicked. Of course! Rookpaw had been thinking of him so recently too! "…Big brother…?" She asked, hesitantly, taking a step towards the tree as she craned her neck to look up at the cat.

The tom's expression lit up. "Ah, you do remember!" He made his way down from the tree; pouncing to a lower branch and then to the ground in a graceful, fluid motion. He held his thick-furred tail high as he padded over to her. "It's good to see you… ah, I suppose you'd be Rook_paw _now!"

"I… Yeah; not that long ago." Rookpaw shyly touched noses in greeting with the cat she'd been desperate to reconnect with; frantically trying to remember his name in the back of her mind, and rather embarrassed that she couldn't, now she was in front of him. What was it? R-something?! "So, it really was you, leaving those black feathers?" She batted gently at the one at her paws.

His tail slowly lowered. "Yeah. I didn't want to stop bringing you something, to show you I was still around; but I guess I had to in the end, huh?" Red- no, not that! Roach? Uh-uh! That was a terrible name!

"Where have you been all this time? Everyone said you were a traitor and were exiled!" She sniffed. Just under all the smell of catnip; she could pick up his scent. It was the smell of Fernclan! She took a step back again, unsure.

"Hey now, I hope you don't believe all that. I'm not a traitor. Or, I wasn't exiled for being one at least. I guess because I'm working with Gorseclan's enemies, I am one now." The red tom let out a bitter sort of chuckle.

"Did- did you join Fernclan?" The Fernclan scent the patrols had found! Was it him?

"Not exactly." He replied dryly, before his mannerisims became more hushed; the tom looking around quickly. "Look, Rookpaw, I don't have a lot of time, and it would take a long time to explain everything to you… I just want to ask you one thing."

She slowly tilted her head, her tail curling as it did when she was nervous. "Sure…?"

"I need you to _trust me_." His voice was calm, with an air of confidence that held familiarity; like Rookpaw had heard it many times in the past, yet it was almost pleading too. "Can you do that? I promise, I'm not trying to hurt Gorseclan; I want to help."

Every part of Rookpaw's common sense told her to not trust him. He smelt of the enemy. Everyone said he was a traitor. He'd been exiled. And now here he was sneaking around in their territory!

And yet… And yet! This was the cat that was in some of her earliest memories; foggy though they were. It was him with his red pelt and familiar voice. Her big brother who always treated her kindly, who Flowerdust clearly missed dearly.

This was Rowanfall.

"Okay." She said finally, her fur lying flatter again. She was still nervous; all this sneaking around, being here with a cat her clan hated, but she would trust in Rowanfall.

"I'm glad." Rowanfall's eyes shone as he dipped his head to her gratefully before quickly glancing about again. He also seemed a bit nervous, though he was trying not to show it. "I don't need you to do anything big. All I need you to do, is ask the elders something for me, and tell no cat you saw me."

Ask the elders a question? She could do that! She asked the elders stuff all the time! Hopefully Smallstep wasn't annoyed about her prying into how she lost her eye before still. Rookpaw nodded enthusiastically

"Great; all I need you to ask is…"


	11. Chapter 9

Rookpaw had dutifully taken back as much catnip as she could carry to Longtail after her meeting with Rowanfall. The secrecy around it all didn't agree with her, and after stammering out a rushed made-up excuse for what took her so long, the medicine cat sent her out for a bit more; he could dry it and store it long term. Venompaw had already been back with the poppy heads and was sorting them in the den with his mentor. The look he gave her as she left again was curious and perhaps a little scathing. Did he not believe her excuse that there had been a boar and she had waited for it to move on before approaching the herbs?

When Rookpaw returned to the catnip patch, Rowanfall was long gone. She couldn't even scent him anymore through all the catnip. It really had been the ideal place for them to meet; she doubted he had planned it, for how could he know she'd be sent to gather the smelly herb? But it had certainly worked out for them. She wondered how long he'd been hanging around, waiting for her to be alone and away from Icestar. In hindsight, Rookpaw figured he'd left his scent all over the territory to draw the leader away on purpose.

The question he had given her for the elders wasn't what she had been expecting. It seemed totally innocuous, simply like some random trivial knowledge. Nothing she knew about; but hopefully the elders could answer… Rowanfall seemed to think it was important enough to risk himself coming here, so she'd do as asked. When a black feather appeared placed outside the apprentice den, Rookpaw would know to meet him again at the catnip patch that day. She was worried she wouldn't be able to get away, but he said he would come back each day as long as it took for her to get her chance.

All this was going to give her a nervous breakdown. Rookpaw knew that consequences for meeting with an enemy; a cat called traitor and exile, on friendly terms would be severe. Icestar would be furious… Meeting his gaze during their training was harder than ever over the next few days. She was almost as jumpy as Longtail with the burden of the secret on her shoulders. Icestar seemed more disappointed in her than ever, but it didn't stop him trying to fix her up into the warrior he wanted. Indeed, he redoubled his efforts with the same fervour that always seemed to drive the leader. More often than not, Rookpaw was sore and tired. When she slept, she didn't have any more of her special dreams. Instead they were nightmares of being caught; of looks of hurt on the faces of the cats she loved; of being exiled like Rowanfall, or of the tom himself being caught and attacked.

When her siblings commented on her extra flighty behaviour, she simply said she had been particularly frightened by a bad nightmare and was still getting over it. The lie didn't help, especially with how easily they believed her. She was an honest cat; she hated lying to them. She convinced herself that it was at least a partial truth; the nightmares were bothering her, but they were a symptom, not a cause.

Five nights passed, and Rookpaw hadn't had a chance to speak to the elders. She was hunting for the queens or practicing with Icestar or sleeping. Or the elders were. She didn't want to wake them; it was disrespectful. But then a glossy black tui feather appeared outside her den and she knew it was now or never.

Icestar wasn't already waiting for her in camp. Perhaps he was out in the training grounds? It bought her some time, though she'd get a scolding for being late… The black cat crossed camp at pace, after tucking the feather into her nest with the others. Cavepaw asked where she was going, but she pretended she didn't hear. He was her most perceptive sibling. She wondered if he felt suspicious of her behaviour or not…

She had noticed the two elders sunning themselves in the morning light; likely warming stiff bones from the cool newleaf night. Rookpaw could tell Hornetclaw was trying to catch her eye from where he was stretching outside the warrior's den, but she pretended not to notice as she took something from the fresh-kill pile. It was all from last night; no hunting patrols were back yet, but hopefully they wouldn't mind.

Rookpaw placed a young rabbit down before the elders, who lifted their heads at her approach. "I brought you some breakfast." She meowed, trying not to betray her nerves. Being nervous would look suspicious when she was just bringing the elders something to eat and chatting to them, as she often did.

"Oh, thank you Rookpaw, that's kind of you." Smallstep purred back, bringing the rabbit closer to herself. Clayclaw rose a bit unsteadily and moved a bit closer so he could share it with his fellow elder.

Rookpaw was lingering, trying to get her mouth to work. The old tom peered up at her. "Was there something else you wanted?" He grunted, an ear twitching.

"Oh, um. Actually, yes…" Rookpaw replied hastily, untying her tongue. She looked over her shoulder, making sure Icestar wasn't looming there.

"Well then spit it out kit, we've not got all day!" The hurry-up was jesting, not angry, but it still made Rookpaw startle, just a little.

"Right, yes. Sorry."

"You okay, Rookpaw? You seem on edge." Smallstep asked kindly.

"Oh, it's nothing!" Rookpaw dipped her head apologetically. "I just had a bad dream last night… Ah, anyway." She continued, ensuring the elders had no chance to question her on the lie. "It's a bit of an odd question, I wanted to ask. It's just something that we were talking about; we thought we heard cats talking about it once, but we weren't sure, so I thought I'd ask you two. Since you know more than anyone else about the clan history…" She was rambling. Starclan, there had to have been a way to say that with less words!

The elder's exchanged mildly bemused glances. "Well, what is it?" Said Clayclaw.

"Is there some old tradition in Gorseclan… about challenging a cat to a one-on-one fight? To like, settle arguments and things?" She was sure she could have phrased that more eloquently, like Rowanfall did to her, but hopefully the pair would get the gist.

Smallstep blinked her one eye. "Ooooh, you're talking about a duel." She rasped knowingly.

"A duel?" So that was the word for it, huh? Somehow, the elder giving her the answer took some of the tension out of her body.

"Yes, it's a very old tradition they say goes back to the founding of Gorseclan. It was once a very popular way to settle disputes… or so the elders of our time said." Clayclaw answered. "I don't know how you heard about it kit; there hasn't been a duel challenge in our lifetime."

"What exactly does it entail?" Rookpaw asked, curious, but also needing more information for Rowanfall.

"Supposedly, if two cats were in an argument, or one had insulted the other or some such other bone to pick, a cat could challenge the other to a duel; a battle with no interference. If one refused, then they forfeited whatever the argument was about, and were denounced a coward by the clan. Or worse." The old tom continued, his eyes narrowed as he brought back the memory of the tradition. "And if you lost… well, the fights were often to the death." Rookpaw felt rather horrified at that. Clanmates killing each other over an argument?! "If the loser survived, then they couldn't ever bring the grievance up again, or risk some sort of punishment. It was as binding as the warrior code in the old days."

"It fell out of favour because the clan was destroying itself over petty things, at the height of its use. Cats would call a duel over a piece of prey, so our elders said!" Smallstep said with a laugh, but Rookpaw didn't find the idea so funny.

Why did Rowanfall want to know about such a horrible old tradition?


	12. Chapter 10

Rookpaw managed to get away at dusk, after training all day. Icestar had been annoyed she was late and had her run laps then practice stalking afterward when she was tired, and it was harder to keep silent on her paws. She couldn't complain; he'd told her not to be late again, and she had accepted that talking to the elders instead of going straight to meet her mentor would have consequences. Icestar had to be a firm leader; he couldn't show he'd go back on his word.

The opportunity presented itself; she didn't even need to come up with an excuse. A typical argument among apprentices ended with some sort of hunting completion… She wasn't really paying attention to the details, all she knew was she was free to trot out of camp behind everyone without arousing suspicion; Windheart calling after them to be back before nightfall.

She could make that time but would have to put up with teasing for coming back without prey. She just hoped Rowanfall hadn't left yet! The compact she-cat moved towards the meeting place at the catnip patch as fast as tired feet could carry her.

Always tired… She had far preferred doing work for Longtail than her training with Icestar. She wished he could have two apprentices at once!

Arriving at the catnip patch, enveloped in it's intoxicating scent, Rookpaw looked around. There was no sign of Rowanfall… oh dear, did she miss him?

"There you are, Rookpaw!" The tom's voice reached her, and she found herself looking up, but he wasn't in the tree again. Where…? A rattle of stone against stone had her look to the nearby cliffs. Rowanfall was making his way down, sending a few small rocks tumbling to the ground with him. "I was just about to leave. Trouble getting away?"

"Yeah, Icestar had me train all day." She offered a flat eared dip of her head apologetically.

"Icestar?" Rowanfall's eyes narrowed, the pleasant welcoming expression that had been on his face quickly darkening in a way that confused Rookpaw. "He's your mentor?"

"Yes… It's a great honour, but I'm worried I'm not good enough to meet his expectations…" She felt at ease telling Rowanfall these things she wouldn't even share with her mother or siblings. Rowanfall couldn't exactly go blab to the clan, after all. It felt good to say her worries aloud when she usually had to hide them.

She wasn't sure Rowanfall was entirely listening though; when she confirmed that the Gorseclan leader was indeed her mentor, the red tom had bared his teeth and grumbled to himself angrily as he turned in a tight, agitated pace. "Of course, he would… just to further _spite_ me and spit on her memory!" The apprentice wasn't sure what his problem was, but the fury in his green eyes scared her. It was a hard anger that reminded her of Icestar's. It looked out of place on his handsome face that was so similar to their father's.

Rookpaw took a hesitant step forward. "Are you okay…?"

The exile blinked and straightened, as if remembering she was there and why she was there. "Sorry Rookpaw. I'm just not Icestar's biggest fan… don't worry about it." He still held anger in his eyes, but he was pushing it down for her sake. He stopped pacing, coming up to sit next to her. "Now, did you manage to ask the elders for me?"

"Yes!" She replied brightly, happy to change the subject. "They told me it was something that really happened, but it's a tradition that hasn't been used in ages."

Rowanfall perked up, ears coming forward. "I knew it… What else did they tell you about it?"

Rookpaw explained everything the elders had told her about duels, her tail tip twitching nervously as she did so. She didn't like this, not really. The sneaking around, and the tradition itself. She was worried about why Rowanfall wanted to know about it. She wanted to help him, but… "Rowanfall…" She started quietly after she was done relaying the information, hoping she wasn't overstepping her bounds. "Why do you want to know about this horrible old tradition? It sounds awful! Clanmates shouldn't fight like that…"

The look the tom gave her was complicated, and Rookpaw couldn't read it. Sympathetic, pitying, longing, fondness, sadness, anger. It was too hard to tell. Only it made him look much older than he was. "It might be horrible, but it could come in handy for saving a lot of cats." The sentence made Rookpaw suspicious. What was Rowanfall planning on doing?

"I hope you aren't going to do something dangerous and silly." She replied, very quietly, looking at the ground instead of her big brother.

"You sound like her. I'm sure she'd be furious and all." He laughed, leaving Rookpaw to wonder who the "her" was. He was getting to his paws again, looking skyward. "It's going to get dark soon. You should get back to camp. "

…

"There you are Rookpaw!" Silverpaw exclaimed when the black she-cat returned to the den, just as the sun was setting completely. The rest of her littermates were laying outside, eating. It looked like Pebblepaw and Honeypaw had already turned in for the night.

"All that time and you didn't even catch anything?" Applepaw's voice was snooty. He was half-way through a greenfinch. Presumably the fresh-kill in their paws was what they had caught in their little contest. "You're kinda pathetic huh?"

Cavepaw curtly whacked his brother over the head, ignoring the whine of protest. "Don't worry about it Rookpaw."

"I'm not." She mumbled. Aside from the teasing, she really wasn't. She had made the choice to go meet Rowanfall instead of playing their game. And besides, they all teased each other anyway. She didn't really like it, but it wasn't anything new. "I guess I was just too tired." Truthfully, she was; too much so to have been hunting anyway.

"Icestar works you pretty hard huh?" Silverpaw asked, her mouth rudely full of mouse. "And I thought Thickstripe was a slave-driver!" She really had no idea.

"I guess. Anyway, I'm going to sleep." Her words were punctuated with a yawn. She wasn't just doing it to get away from them; she really was exhausted. Physically and mentally from the stress of keeping secrets. "Icestar is taking me to the Clawclan camp tomorrow while he meets with the new leader." She wasn't looking forward to it. Honestly, the reformed rogues scared her.

"Oh yeah, the skinny cat who's missing hair." Cavepaw commented as he watched Rookpaw pad towards the den entrance. "What was his name? Something weird…"

"I don't know why those cats don't get proper names now they are going to be a clan!" Applepaw's loud comment was drowned out as Rookpaw removed herself, leaving them to it. They wouldn't even notice she wasn't there, in all likelihood. Once that lot had something juicy to talk about it was like the rest of the world wasn't there. She was sure someone would have to come and tell them to go to sleep.

Rookpaw settled down in her nest, quickly rearranging her feathers as she often did. The new feather from Rowanfall that morning was already with the others; right next to the magpie one he'd dropped from the tree when she'd met him the first time. Some of the other commented it was weird she kept things like this. It wasn't something done in Gorseclan; their nests were purely practical. But she liked it.

Shutting her eyes, the young cat wondered when she would next have one of those past-dreams. Part of her anticipated them now; she wanted to learn more about this "power", but she hadn't had any since the one with a young Smallstep. Perhaps they would only appear for a reason?

That night, her dreams were a normal, hard to remember, blur.


	13. Chapter 11

Leopardtail was feeling quite smug about things, oh yes indeed. And _elated_ at feeling smug at that. Yes, a feeling of things going her way was a rather pleasant one. Especially when she got to rub it in another cat's face. At her age, one had to appreciate the finer things in life.

When the small party consisting of leader, deputy and medicine cat from Fieldclan and Fernclan (including Finchstar and that uppity former Gorseclan tom, who both seemed to have all but permanently taken up squatting in Flamestar's territory) arrived to meet with Bogstar; a tiny, mimicked gathering under the bright full moon, Bogstar had _actually asked_ the other leaders what she'd said to ask; told them what she'd thought about Gorseclan's lack of action being a trap. He'd actually listened to her! Miracles could happen after all.

Neither of the two leaders (and the one former leader, she supposed) had said boo about him taking advice from an elder. After all, it wasn't a big deal for them. They already did so. Bogstar possibly held some wounded pride, but Leopardtail didn't give a damn toss about that.

Nobody knew where the rogue's camp was, though the new Fieldclan leader had an idea of where their borders lay. "They've been scent-marking for a half-moon. It seems they are making an official claim to the land south of us; across the whole southern border, then up along into old Gustclan territory." Heronstar had said darkly. Her words had caused Finchstar to tremble, though Leopardtail could not say if it had been of anger or fear.

They agreed that the territory also had to lay south of Gorseclan's border too; and their camp had to be more in that direction. It seemed sensible to have the camp nearer to their ally, and during the raid, they had arrived with good time. It was an impressively long border to claim. How large a territory had they decided they needed? True, the land they had claimed was poor; no clan really cared for it or they'd already own it. But it was the _principal_ of the matter that annoyed the elder, and likely the other cats too.

"We'll each send a good scout to look for the camp." Flamestar had said, as they all came to the agreement. The cats would enter the rogue's territory from Fieldclan's most south-eastern border, and fan out in search of the camp. Leopardtail felt it was a good plan; risky for those cats sent, but about the best they could do in the circumstances.

The imperative was that they could not be seen.

Were she young and spry again, Leopardtail would have volunteered to go herself. In her prime she could stalk and stealth with the best of them. And she also had a lick of brains.

As it was, the next day she had watched as Bogstar selected his own deputy; Blackbird, to head out into the danger. It made sense. She was sleek and nimble, and her dark colouring would make her hard to spot. They'd agreed it was best to go at dusk and search the territory in darkness.

Harder to see, but harder to be found in turn.

The ex-Gorseclan cat had volunteered to go too. Heronstar sent that big-eared cat of hers; Batear. He must make a good scout, Leopardtail supposed. He had slightly short legs too; a weird quirk of Fieldclan blood that popped up now and then; their newer medicine cat was even more stumpy. Made him harder to see in tall grass? She had sniggered at her own thought.

Flamestar one of the two angular cats that the elder could never tell apart at gatherings. She wasn't even sure if it was the tom or the she-cat. Finchstar, bless her, obviously feeling left out, sent her brother Drakewing.

Five cats to cover who knows how much ground. But they'd keep doing it until they found the camp; this was their only sensible move left.

Blackbird had returned to camp in the morning to rest thrice now. Leopardtail had perked up every time the slinky thing had padded back through the willow leaves at sunrise, but each time they'd made eye-contact, the deputy had shaken her head.

Three nights. Three chances to get caught. Blackbird was clearly exhausted; Bogstar had Tuataratail take over her duties temporarily. The senior warrior didn't want to be deputy _ever_, but he had relented and done what needed to be done to give the black she-cat a much-needed break.

It was on the fourth morning, that something happened.

Leopardtail was sunning herself in what little morning light that came through the branches of the tree that was their home. Nothing could get done without warming these bones up, and she was determined to still go on her daily outings. Kakawing was taking her today, so she'd been told. A relaxed (the elder said lazy) thing, but largely sensible enough. Used to be mates with her silly son. She liked her fine enough. As much as she could like _anyone_.

It still boggled her mind that _they _produced that hyperactive nutcase Lightningpaw; given both their temperaments. Leopardtail also refused to acknowledge they were related by blood.

So, she sat in the sun, munching idly on a thrush and waiting for Kakawing to turn up so she could go on her walk. A passing thought of the lack of Blackbird's presence floated through the old she-cat's mind. It wasn't ever at it's sharpest first thing. In hindsight, she should have gotten a bad feeling about that right off.

It wasn't until some time later, right about when she was getting annoyed at Kakawing's decided lack of punctuality, that the realisation came. Bogstar had padded over, his ears angled back with an anxious air about him. "Have you seen Blackbird yet this morning, Leopardtail?" He likely came to ask her as he knew she was often one of the first cats awake in the morning, save the dawn patrol.

"No." She replied slowly, the deputy's lateness dawning on her along with a creeping dread up her spine. It was feeling she had come to know well as a warrior. A foreboding that was sometimes wrong but more often right. "Perhaps she's just tired and isn't hurrying back through Fieldclan territory." The excuse sounded weak even as she said it, but it was technically possible. Blackbird wasn't that late back… yet.

Bogstar looked about as unconvinced as she felt. He was fiddling with that feather again; Leopardtail had noticed it as a bit of nervous twitch. The pressure of new leadership, especially right now with everything going on, wasn't something she'd ever wanted for herself.

"I'm going to send a cat to Fernclan and check if their scouts came back." Leopardtail nodded at the leader's reasoning. Fernclan was closest, and three of the five scouts technically came from there.

Bogstar turned on his heels and marched off without much of another word. He still didn't feel the need to discuss in depth with her. She snorted after him. His loss, and at least now _some_ of her experience was being heard.

She couldn't say she was very impressed when he sent Kakawing to Fernclan, leaving her to take her walk with Clawstrike, though. Still, her mind kept wandering back to Blackbird too much to be too annoyed by the loud tom's lurking presence behind her on her walk.

Was the deputy okay? Was her daughter okay?


	14. Chapter 12

Rookpaw was up bright and early to travel to Clawclan's camp with Icestar. She wasn't really sure why he was bringing her along. Usually he went alone to visit them, or took Sorrelfur or Spiderstreak with him.

"It's a learning experience." The big white tom had grunted when she had asked yesterday. It wasn't really enough of an explanation for Rookpaw though. Still, she wouldn't ask him to elaborate. It appeared the idea of going there today had made him even more tense than usual. She wondered if the new leader of the ex-rogues was causing some kind of problem?

Her thoughts floated restlessly between wondering how Rowanfall was and what he was up to now she had given him that information about duels, and worrying about the impending trip. As she fretted, cleaning herself to ease frantic thoughts after her mouse for breakfast, Rookpaw noticed the siblings Mistheart and Dappledshade speaking with each other.

Now, they were littermates; it wasn't that weird they were talking… But it was the manner in which they were talking that drew her attention. The pair were sequestered off to the side of camp, away from any occupied dens. Their heads were close together, and they spoke quietly; soft enough you'd have to be right next to them to hear anything. Their discussion seemed hasty and a little heated though, judging by the body language. Dappledshade looked particularly upset, which was odd to see. Usually she was the picture of cool and collected. Any cat up this early was generally busy doing something, and hidden away as they were, most would not notice them. Rookpaw just happened to have a perfect line of sight from her spot…. So why didn't they want to be noticed?

Casting her gaze further around camp, Rookpaw spied Venompaw also staring at them, very subtly, as he crossed the clearing with a large meal for him and Longtail in his jaws, little stump of a tail erect and quivering. She could see a full tail held proud in the air, if he had one. His expression was one of guarded curiosity. Suddenly his eyes flicked to her, like he could sense her watching, and Rookpaw hastily ducked her head to lick her forechest and pretend she hadn't been staring at him. She could almost feel his gaze narrow with suspicion, but when she looked back up, he was gone. Mistheart and Dappledshade had also moved on.

She watched the dawn patrol leave as she groomed her tail; led by Creampelt with Dartwing, Mottletail and one of the Gustclan cats in tow. It was the lanky spotted tabby with the big ears. The one who always stared at her. He never said anything; just watched. She didn't know why; perhaps just to be creepy and bother a Gorseclan cat, Cavepaw suggested. He was pushed out the entrance by Mottledtail, but more gently than a cat like Spiderstreak or Hornetclaw might.

"Rookpaw." The black she-cat turned at the sound of her name, but the voice wasn't belonging to Icestar. Instead, her mother was approaching on delicate feet. "What are you doing up so early?" Flowerdust asked.

"Icestar is taking me with him to visit Clawclan…" She replied, noticing her mother's gentle expression change; forehead creasing with worry.

"Why is he doing that?" She shook her head before Rookpaw could answer. "Just be careful and do what he tells you…" The ticked tabby's tail twitched nervously, a habit Rookpaw herself had picked up. "They may be our side, but they aren't… quite like us yet..."

"I'll be careful, mother. I always am." The apprentice reassured Flowerdust with a bunt of her head; their mother had always been a bit overprotective. Even though Rookpaw worried about most things, she didn't like to worry Flowerdust any more than she already did herself. Part of her wished she could tell her that Rowanfall was okay, but he was a very sore subject that Rookpaw had learned not to bring up with either of their parents long ago. Flowerdust reacted with what was clearly a deep and hurtful upset, Windheart with a haughty anger. Generally, neither would speak to the other for a little while after. Rookpaw didn't know why, but it was painful to see her parents like that.

"Of course you will sweetheart." Flowerdust replied with a purr, giving her kit a quick lick on the head. Suddenly she straightened up, looking over Rookpaw. "Icestar." The respectful greeting had Rookpaw quickly whip around and dip her head with her mother to her approaching leader and mentor.

"Flowerdust." The white tom rumbled politely. Rookpaw's mother was quick to say her goodbyes and move off, leaving Rookpaw with Icestar.

"Are you ready to go? Eaten your fill?" He asked, eyeing the mouse scraps nearby.

"Yes sir." Rookpaw replied promptly. The bristle of hair down the tom's broad back told her he was already in a barely controlled bad mood.

"Good. I won't slow down for you and it's a long way to get there." Icestar turned and made for the fortified entrance; jerking his head as a gesture for Rookpaw to follow.

…

Icestar wasn't kidding. He didn't sprint, but his even, rhythmic jog was smooth for a cat of his great size and power; easily manoeuvring the terrain at speed. Compact and short Rookpaw could barely keep up over the rough land south of their border and ended up largely following flashes of Icestar's white tail.

Between puffing and panicking when she lost sight of the leader, Rookpaw took in the landscape around her. She could see why Gorseclan had never claimed this land for themselves… It was dry, largely rocky and barren. A bit of grass and scrub and the odd half-dead looking tree was about all the life the apprentice could easily spot.

She wondered if Clawclan wasn't happy with the land they'd been gifted, as part of Icestar's promise to them. But then, once all the clans were united, perhaps things would change, and they could access more fertile hunting grounds.

Drat! She'd lost him again! Rookpaw glances around as she slowed her pace. Which way did he go? The dry, prickly scrub here had gotten much thicker than most of the way. A strong scent was heavy in the air… Rookpaw knew it as Clawclan scent. Were they close to camp?

"Well well well…" A voice hissed, causing Rookpaw to jump and spin around with fur on end. A dark grey-blue she-cat was leering at her as she melted out of the undergrowth. "Lost, little kit?" A scar decorated the cat's skull above the right eye, and a long one across the right side of the ribs. This cat carried Clawclan's acidic scent, but it was weaker than usual… She'd heard cats talking about them getting new members. Perhaps this was one of them?

"I uh… Well, um…" Rookpaw stammered, her heart still going from the surprise, and now from being before a Clawclan cat without Icestar. "I came with, uh, Icestar? I just… lost him."

The she-cat observed her sceptically. "Icestar?" She cocked her head to one side. "That oversized sun-bleached turd of a cat?" She snorted, ignoring the mildly horrified look on Rookpaw's face at the insult. "Did hear something about him coming to see Graves…"

"Yes, he decided to bring me with him."

"Why would he bring a little scrap like you with him?"

"I uh… learning experience. I'm his apprentice." She parroted back what Icestar had told her.

"Apprentice huh?" The grey-blue peered at her, then suddenly turned and walked away. "Well he'll be coming to camp I suppose, so you might as well follow me."

Rookpaw fell into step with the she-cat's leisurely pace, and the cat looked back over her scared flank to the apprentice with a tiny flash of amused teeth. "And that way if you're lying, it's easy to throw you in the_ hole_! You can keep the other one company!"

Everything told Rookpaw to turn around and go home, but all she could do was swallow nervously and follow the Clawclan camp into the bramble.


	15. Chapter 13

The Clawclan camp was a small clearing inside a thicket of broom and gorse; encircled by dead trees that had been outcompeted by the faster growing plants below. The ground was still hard, stony and uneven; makeshift dens created in the thicket or under fallen logs around rocky outcrops. It wasn't any more habitable looking than the rest of the territory, really.

The hard stares her appearance earned also weren't very welcoming.

Rookpaw held herself low as she crept in behind the grey-blue she-cat, who had introduced herself as Mist on the way here. "Well what do you know? Icestar is here." The comment from the Clawclan member had Rookpaw follow her line of sight. Sure enough, Icestar's hard to miss white pelt was standing over next to a large lichen covered boulder near the centre of camp.

Next to him, speaking quietly, was the new leader; Graves. Rookpaw had only seen him a handful of times before, and as much as she didn't like thinking it, she found his appearance scary and a touch repulsive. The skinny cat had large patches of hair missing, leaving dark, slightly scabbed skin exposed. He was missing more fur than the last time Rookpaw had caught a glimpse of him. What fur he did have was thin and unhealthy looking, matching pale eyes that had a dark cunning to them, yet always seemed tired beneath that.

He looked like a cat out of one of the kit tales; a diseased figure of the Dark Forest who escaped and spread pestilence over the land in ghostly form, in a desire for petty revenge after their own sickness went uncured.

Both toms must have scented her arrival, for they turned to look at her. "Rookpaw." Icestar rumbled, his tail flicking in an impatient beckoning. She was quick to scurry to his side, leaving Mist to snort with annoyance as she was left without comment. "I told you to keep up."

She dipped her head low. "I'm sorry Icestar; I lost sight of you. It won't happen again."

The leader didn't offer any other comment, only a twitch of an ear, before turning back to Graves. "This is my new apprentice; Rookpaw." The thin grey's pale eyes shifted to her at the introduction. They were intelligent, but not in the same way she saw Rowanfall's, or even Venompaw's. There was something else there that she didn't like there, and it was scrutinizing her thoroughly.

"Bit different to your last one." Graves commented eventually, after staring through Rookpaw for what seemed like an age. His voice reminded her of a winter river; flowing and smooth, but cold. He was referring to Dappledshade, obviously. She didn't know what to think of that and dared not ask. "But I suppose you have your reasons." Those eyes shifted to glance sidelong at the Gorseclan leader, who curled his lip just so.

"I do. Now what was that you were saying about-"

"Our prisoner, yes." Graves interrupted, which had Icestar's fur bristle on his shoulders just so. "This way." Rookpaw couldn't believe the ease with which the Clawclan leader was showing such disrespect! The slinky tom padded around the one who was much larger than he, urging him to follow. She could see Icestar's claws slide out, but he did not use them, and instead followed after Graves. Rookpaw carefully went after them, not wanting to be left alone in this camp. She didn't like Icestar much as a cat, but he was her leader, and her only protection in this place.

Crossing the clearing behind Graves offered Rookpaw a chance to better take in the cats around her, in this camp that looked like a tiny echo of Gorseclan's. There were far fewer cats around than the typically bustling Gorseclan camp, but then, Rookpaw knew the founding clan was much smaller, and of course there could be members who were currently hunting or patrolling.

Mist was now nearby what must be their fresh-kill pile. It was woefully small. The grey-blue she-cat was picking through the meagre prey, when another cat; a dark ginger she-cat, approached with flat ears and a snarl already on her lips. Mist hissed back, and the two stood over the pile with arched backs. Rookpaw gasped as the ginger struck Mist with outstretched claws, yowling something about rank and claim to first choice. Mist was forced to retreat back away from the prey with a bleeding cheek, still grumbling. It seemed she had to now wait her turn.

It was a bizarre scene; cats fighting over food when they were from the same clan... But Graves seemed unconcerned; with no need to show them discipline for infighting. He'd been watching out of the corner of his eye, a lazy expression on his drawn face. "Your warriors look undisciplined." Icestar commented drolly.

"We do things differently here Icestar." Graves reply was light as he gave himself a scratch. Rookpaw wondered if his ugly skin was irritating him. "Mist does not rank above Cherry. She deserved the reminder of her place." Icestar gave the smaller tom a look but said nothing more.

"The food situation has not improved." Graves continued loftily to Icestar with a flash of unhealthy looking teeth, a hint of insinuation in his tone.

"Keep doing your jobs and you will get more prey." Icestar returned firmly, intoning promise. Graves only flicked an ear in a noncommittal sort of way that Rookpaw didn't like. The look on Icestar's face also told her he wasn't happy either.

They had come to a stop. Rookpaw peered around Icestar's bulk to see that the ground before their paws gave way to a deep, black hole. Mist had mentioned something about a "pit" … Looking at it gave the apprentice a feeling of foreboding.

Icestar craned his neck to look over the edge. "Look familiar to you?" Graves asked, as the big tom's eyes widened slightly. Defiant spitting that clearly belonged to a cat wafted up from the hole.

"Yes… Most interesting catch you've made." Rookpaw dared herself to look, as Icestar and Graves both seemed to be ignoring her for the moment. Hesitantly, she shifted so she could look directly down into the pit.

A bad smell hit her nose; old carrion and filth; fear scent and blood far fresher. At the bottom was earth and rock and dry, white bones. And a live black cat; sleek and smooth. Yellow eyes stared back up at her, wide and desperate and angry. She didn't recognize her, but Icestar clearly did. A faint smell of Marshclan's boggy scent mingled with the stench of the pit.

"I suppose you have a plan on what to do with her?" Graves voice drew Rookpaw's gaze away from the terrified one of the black cat, and she stumbled back from the hole, the spell of the shock broken.

Icestar and the Clawclan leader were now moving away; the big white tom's broad face was thoughtful. "Perhaps… Where did you find her?"

"Oh, she came to _us_." Graves purred. "Not far from camp; stumbling around lost not unlike your little thing." He laughed, but the expression on Icestar's face was far from amused.

"She was right by camp. She _found your camp_." He growled, his head lowering with a flash of teeth. Graves narrowed those hate-filled pale eyes with annoyance at the reaction.

The thin grey scoffed. "She's in a hole in the ground. No cat can get out on their own."

"It's not her that's the problem, you fool!" Icestar snarled. "You really think she was _alone_?"

"We scented no other Marshclan cats nearby; no other cats at all." He sounded offended by the thought that he hadn't properly checked.

"Just because they weren't nearby _then_-" Suddenly the Gorseclan leader stopped himself, taking in a sharp breath. Perhaps he was noticing how he was quickly making Graves, and by association the other cats in the camp hostile. Rookpaw found herself hunched behind his bulk, cowed by the many glaring eyes from very scary looking cats.

"Icestar…" She started, but an equally frightening glare from the leader had her snap her jaw shut. What she wouldn't give to be at home right now…

"Icestar I think we've been over the fact I am not Sting. I have far more _perception_." Graves voice was cool and cold. "I know they are working together; I've surmised that they may have others who have found the camp as well."

"So, you need to move." He grunted back, very bothered by the defiance in this cat that was supposed to work for him.

"I think not." A thin tail flicked back and forth as Graves padded in a delicate manner in front of Icestar, totally fearless in the face of his clear rage and the fact that he was clearly outmatched if it came to a fight. "I think ahead."

Icestar seemed unconvinced in the face of Graves' confidence. "And if they come here? You haven't had time to set up defences yet!" Rookpaw understood his worry. If something happened to Clawclan… then Gorseclan would be totally outnumbered…

Graves jerked his head towards the pit that contained the black cat, an unnerving gleam to his stark eyes. "We have _her_."


	16. Chapter 14

**AN: Just a smaller chapter today to tide everyone over until things kick of next time!**

Leopardtail found herself more on edge than she had been in many moons. Not since she retired, really. Her daughter Blackbird had vanished searching for the rogue camp; the only one of the scouts to not return to their camps. The elder was not foolish; she knew it could only mean two things. Blackbird was either captured, or dead.

Either way, it meant that they'd not only lost their deputy, but the element of surprise attacking the camp.

It had only taken Bogstar a day to rally Fernclan and Fieldclan into aiding them on a rescue mission; one that would double as an attack on the rogue camp. The thought tore Leopardtail's support in two. On the one paw, Blackbird needed saving (if she was still alive…) and they needed to deal with the rogue allies to Icestar. On the other, they would now know they had found them, and would be preparing. The risk was undoubtably higher.

It was a choice that had to be made; but it wasn't really like they _had _a choice at all. They didn't have any riskless options left. It put a bad feeling in the elder's guts, and made it seem like her bones were aching more than normal.

Bogstar seemed about as on edge as her. The tiny leader looked stressed, and his normally calm ways were devolving to snapping with impatience at his warriors. A report of twolegs wandering about acting strangely on their territory earned the patrol that gave it nothing but an impatient hiss about how he didn't really care about twolegs right now.

He had even come to her and the other elders to speak about the sacred white heron feathers, and the protection they offered.

Leopardtail honestly thought some of it was hogwash, but at the same time, it was something so deeply ingrained in Marshclan culture, and Bogstar clearly believed strongly in the clan's Starclan-sent guardians and their feathers. She agreed with her fellows and the medicine cat and told him what he wanted to hear. If it made him feel better… His confidence would be needed; he was leading the raid himself, and those coming with him would look to him.

He headed the patrol holding his head high; dwarfed by Fernclan's huge deputy and Fieldclan's tall leader at his side. Huiafeather's deft and nimble little paws had managed to make the leader something special. A loop of vine hung around his neck, and carefully woven to it, two long, gleaming white heron feathers. He was borrowing Thunderstream's _mana_ today. Leopardtail had even said a special blessing over it as Oakfur put it around Bogstar's neck. For all the good it would do.

She just hoped that Starclan was really on their side today, and that the heron's feathers protection was actually worth a damn... If they wanted to talk omens… well no cat had even seen a white heron in moons; since before Swallowstar died. Bogstar's feather was found below an old roost. Some believed their guardian had abandoned them; Leopardtail had heard the whispers. Oakfur was always croaking about the ill that came with a leader's feather not being "fresh" and the total absence of the blasted bird.

Leopardtail didn't hold much faith in anything but tangible results, but even she felt her hackles go up with the talk, sometimes. When was the last time Thunderstream had given any positive news on the Starclan front? Bogstar's leadership had been accepted at Starfalls, but since then they'd had nothing but silence. Leopardtail was old enough to know that whatever influence Starclan had, it was not all-powerful.

There was some delay in the group heading off; for even after the cats from Fernclan and Fieldclan that were coming had turned up, one of their own selected for the battle had not. "Where is damn Ratapelt?" His apprentice Windpaw was there, ready and waiting without her mentor. Even the apprentice couldn't offer an explanation for the absence.

"He went hunting to calm his nerves, but that was ages ago..."

"Blasted..." Bogstar had let out a tense sigh. "We cannot wait any longer we will have to go without him. Windpaw, you stay behind as well and track him down. Tell him he's in for an ear full."

Leopardtail watched the exchange with worry in her heart. Ratapelt wasn't generally the irresponsible type.

The old warrior had insisted she go with them as far as she could; Blackbird was a little strange, and they'd never been the closest mother and daughter in the world, but she was still _hers_, dammit. Leopardtail had watched them go from on one of the mounds in Fieldclan's grassy lands, crossing through the twoleg fence and into enemy territory. The twolegs who had been digging about in the field were gone, but the new young trees they'd planted were clear in the landscape. Bizarre beasts.

"I should be going with them." She growled as the last few tails vanished into the tangle of bramble and gorse that lined the fence.

"Your time for battle ended moons ago Leopardtail." Rumbled Tuataratail from beside her, his voice solemn. "You passed the torch onto us young ones."

"Grudgingly." She replied, ears flat. She had not retired willingly; it had been her body that let her down. "If I were just a few seasons younger…" She dug her claws into the grass beneath her paws. "I'd march right up to that Icestar upstart and claw his throat out."

Tuataratail blinked, politely not commenting on her savagery. "You were known as a most proficient warrior… I'm sure he wouldn't have stood a chance."

The aged she-cat let out a cackling laugh, showing a flash of yellow, cracked teeth. She knew he was just humouring her, but still, it was _true_! Her reputation was glorious! "Oh Starclan, once I was young, _strong…! _I could bring down a swan or crack a big tom's skull!" How she missed her glory days! Sometimes she wished she had taken that deputy position, and then perhaps become leader. The extra lives had appealed, but then she remembered that they hadn't saved Swallowstar from old age.

Nothing could stop the march of time, not even Starclan.

Tuataratail wanted to lead her back to camp. Fieldclan was on their side right now, but the warrior obviously still felt uncomfortable waiting here in their territory; especially when it was so close to the enemy. He was also the one left in charge and wouldn't want to be away long. They should go home and wait in camp; eat, try to rest… Barkfoot was probably already in conniptions about her being this close… Leopardtail knew it was silly to wait here, as if being a bit closer made any difference to the group going to war.

But it made her feel better. Tuataratail was a non-confrontational guy, so he allowed it. They sat in silence side by side. In her head, Leopardtail was ticking down time. Experience told her it would not be long; cats moving with battle in their stride…

The two exchanged glances when the distant yowling started.


	17. Chapter 15

Rookpaw didn't even have time to contemplate what Graves had in mind for his prisoner when he rounded and started ordering his cats around. Did he expect an attack right away? Icestar watched with a narrow gaze. She wished she could find out what he was thinking sometimes.

"Where is Luna?" Graves barked towards a leggy pointed tom. Cold blue eyes shifted towards them at the address. This was the cat that defected from Fieldclan… The last time he'd visited camp, Cavepaw had pointed him out.

"I don't know." Ferretstrike snapped back. "He went his own way hunting; I'm not the kittypet kit-sitter!"

"Well, since you have experience with kittypets…" Another cat laughed cruelly as they overheard the conversation. Ferrestrike snarled at them, and they hissed back. It looked like another blow might happen… What was wrong with these cats?

"Enough." The word was quiet, but it was sufficient to have both of them stop. Graves surveyed Ferretstrike as the other Clawclan cat slunk away. "We possibly have a fight coming our way any moment and I need every pair of teeth and claws. Even the soft ones can make for _shields_."

Ferretstrike glowered at his leader, looking like he might refuse.

Graves lowered his head, curling his lip ever so slightly. "Do you need to be taught your place again?"

The pointed tom stared for a long moment, then forced his hackles down. "No." His face was thunder. He turned and ran off, nearly shoving over a fluffy she-cat then leaving the camp through a small hole in the gorse.

"That one is trouble." Icestar commented with a rumble.

"I'm well aware. He has no patience for earning power." The ill-looking cat laughed, a high sound that pierced Rookpaw's ears in an unpleasant way. "I'm sure he's plotting to take over every day, sad creature!"

Graves seemed to notice her looking at him, for suddenly those pale eyes were on her. She shrunk slightly under his gaze. "Yessir?" She questioned carefully.

He didn't address her directly, instead looking back to Icestar. "How old is this one again, Icestar?"

"Not long past six moons." He replied with a bored tone, his eyes instead tensely fixed on the camp walls. "Why?"

"No particular reason."

Suddenly a shriek rent the air; unmistakably an alarmed cat. It didn't sound far away.

Icestar's small ears flicked up towards the sound. Rookpaw found herself subconsciously moving closer to him. "What was that?"

"Scree; he was scout today. It would seem things are moving faster than expected…" Graves turned towards the boulder in the centre of camp, looking over his shoulder to some of his cats. He jerked his head towards the pit. "Bring her!"

"An attack?" Icestar demanded the answer as he fell into step quickly with the Clawclan leader.

"Just so. A large one too, by the sound of that cry." Graves looked alarmingly unconcerned. "No doubt coming in rescue of the good deputy…"

Icestar's eyes went wide. "Then we need reinforcements! You don't have enough cats here; it'll be a slaughter!" He rounded on Rookpaw with a battle-snarl already forming on his muzzle, ready to order her to run and get cats from Gorseclan, most likely. "Rookpaw-!"

"Wait." Graves said. "There's no need for that."

"Are you mad!? If you lot fall then everything will be _ruined_!"

A slow blink in the face of spitting confusion and rage. Rookpaw could admit the sheer guts of this cat! When Graves replied after a beat, his voice was still calm. "I have a plan. All going well we may not spill any of our own blood at all."

Icestar seemed momentarily stunned into fuming silence, so Graves continued. Part of Rookpaw was almost enjoying watching Icestar being so thoroughly verbally thwarted. "I apologize, but time is short." A large ear flicked, and several of Graves' cats moved forward, surrounding them with set faces.

"What is this…?" The big white tom hissed. Rookpaw's tail fluffed out nervously. What were they doing? "Do you mean to betray me Graves?!"

"If it were betrayal you'd have died when you first set foot here. No… I understand the need for you. But… You will just be in the way right now with that temper of yours." Graves held his head a little higher as his cats forced them back away from him. "Throw them in the pit and don't let them out until I say so."

A pale ginger tom rammed into Rookpaw, knocking the breath out of her and sending her sprawling away from Icestar's side. Her ears rung as she lay there, dazed, and all she could hear was Icestar's growls as he tussled with the Clawclan cats, and the distant battle-wails of the approaching war party.

…

The bottom of the pit smelt even worse than it did from the top.

Rookpaw stumbled over a large creature's ribcage as she backed up against the far wall, away from where she'd been unceremoniously dumped. The earth and rock walls of the large hole were smooth. There was no way a cat could get a safe foothold to climb out, and it was way too far to jump out. The Clawclan cats had some old twoleg creation made of rope and wood to get their captives in and out. Out went the Marshclan deputy, and in went Icestar and her.

Her leader was mad; madder than she'd ever seen him. He paced and yowled and snarled with spittle hanging from heavy jaws. "Starclan warned me!" He ranted. "Starclan warned me to watch out from within, but who knew _you'd _be the one _stupid_ enough to fulfil it!" If Graves above heard the words and threats that followed, he ignored them.

Rookpaw just hunkered down against the wall, scrunching her nose to try and drive out the scent. Her mind wandered -as it often did even in tense situations- to something else. She wondered about where this hole had come from. Was it some twoleg thing? Many of the bones in the retching mud here were too big to come from anything a cat killed. Only more recent prey was small. It seemed Clawclan had been throwing some of their leftovers down her to torment the black she-cat.

The yowls of the raiding party were basically on top of them now. They had to be very close; possibly bursting into camp at that very moment. They clearly knew that Clawclan knew they were coming; they made no effort to be quiet. Indeed, it seemed they were being loud to try and further intimidate them.

Part of Rookpaw was almost glad she was down in the hole. At least that meant they should need to fight…

Shouts above. Snarls and growls and wails. They'd arrived. Her ears went flat. She didn't want to hear it.

"You listen." Icestar hissed at her, noticing how she was trying to block out the sounds of the fight. "If you are going to be a warrior you need to listen."

"Yes Icestar." Rookpaw replied automatically, pretending to listen attentively but still trying to drown it out in her mind.

"What in _Starclan's name is that_?" She heard a cat exclaim. Oh, they'd noticed the pit. Yeah. That was probably the right reaction. A head popped over the rim of the hole. "Oh my- Icestar's in there!" The little apricot head vanished again, yowling about it's discovery.

Rookpaw took a furtive glance at her mentor. He was currently breaking small bones in his claws. Oh good, getting angrier then. Perhaps also embarrassed to be seen stuck in Clawclan's pit…? Could he even get embarrassed? Rookpaw reflected that she spent little time thinking of him as _just a cat_. Like the rest of them. He always seemed like something above to her.

"Stop!" That cool, high voice suddenly broke over the din, louder than Rookpaw had thought him capable of. "Please stop, all of you!"

"Why should we?" Spat back one of the attackers, the sound of fighting growing fewer and quieter. Rookpaw both did and didn't wish she could see what was happening. Close by, Icestar was starting to try and scrabble out, his patience obviously reaching its end. "Just because you know you're beaten?" Some of the other invaders laughed and jeered.

"Beaten?" Graves repeated the word, his voice rolling it across his tongue like it was new to him. "No, no… I think not." She could almost picture him atop his leader's rock, looking down on all the other cats. She didn't think he would actually fight himself; surely, he was too frail. "After all, we still have the prize you all came for."

There were some gasps in the now quiet crowd. The fighting had indeed stopped. He must have had his cats bring out Blackbird. Rookpaw strained her ears. Was that her, faintly hissing in defiance? It must have been, for a growl that belonged to Mist sounded out, and with a grunt, it fell silent again. "Let her go!" One voice yelled clearly, full of worry and anger.

"Of course, of course… I will release her for you." Graves' voice was silky soft. "This was all a big misunderstanding…" Rookpaw didn't like his tone.

"What are you talking about, you poorly digested pile of horseshit?!" A new voice yelled out, this one was just angry.

"You clan cats _misunderstood_. Thinking you could find our camp and get rid of us without consequence." There was a pause of quiet. Rookpaw pictured Graves widening his eyes for emphasis. "You _did_ think that, right? No? …Well, let me clarify to you where we stand then." His voice shifted back to his usual cool ice, he was now addressing his own cats. "Let's offer some _generosity_."

More grunting. A snarl.

A _scream_.

"No!" Rookpaw moaned softly, distressed, pushing her ears down with her paws, trying to force out the sound, and then the reaction of the cats above. She didn't know what just happened, but the cry that Blackbird let out was long, and gut-twisting. It reminded her of the sound from her dream where Smallstep's party was attacked by dogs. Oh Starclan, what were they _doing_?!

There was a soft sound of something hitting the hard earth. More startled noises. She was sure she heard a cat retch. It was what she felt like doing. Even Icestar had paused to listen, his face dark.

"There. That part is free; a token of my _sliver_ of goodwill." Part, what did he mean by _part_?

"You… monster…" It was one of the cats that had spoken before, his voice was shocked and hollow.

"Monster? Really. I told you I'd return her." Graves chuckled, and some others followed. "I just didn't confirm it wouldn't be in _pieces_. How _together_ the rest is really depending on _you_, and I'd decide quickly, because I don't know how much more will come off without her bleeding to death..."


	18. Chapter 16

**A/N: Sorry this one took a while! I'm on a break now so once I get my mojo back I'm hoping I can get a few chapters out!**

Leopardtail waited atop the small hill anxiously with Tuataratail. She didn't like this. Moments ago, the faint sounds of battle died down. Why? It was too soon for a fight to be over. She had fought many battles in her moons of service. Large scale attacks like that were never so fast.

"I don't like this." She hissed through her teeth, more to herself than the senior warrior next to her.

"Neither do I." He rumbled back, his little ears angled back and showing his nerves. "We should return to camp."

"Like I'm going to do that until they get back. Especially now." The elder held firm. "Don't be a damn coward."

"I'm not!" Tuataratail defended with a widening of his eyes. "I'm just worried something might happen in camp-" He broke off suddenly, sniffing the air. "Fieldclan approaching."

Sure enough as Leopardtail lifted her broad muzzle to the light breeze, the wind carried the scent of Fieldclan to them. Close by and no doubt lurking in the tall grass. "There's no point stalking around hidden; we can smell you." She grumbled loudly in the direction of the scent.

A pale pelt melted out of the grass, moving up the hill to join them. "Why would I hide?" She replied smoothly. "We're on the same side." Leopardtail blinked. Wow, aside from the pelt colour, she almost wouldn't recognize her. She wasn't the round young kittypet the elder knew moons ago.

"Snowthaw." Tuataratail greeted with a small incline of his head, letting out a breath he must have been holding in apprehension. He had visited Fieldclan a few times for Bogstar, so was obviously familiar enough with the young warrior.

"I was hunting nearby and spotted you two. Truthfully, I came around here because I'm worried about the raiding party… You as well, obviously?" Snowthaw sat after dipping her head to them both, a respectful distance away to reflect their clan divisions. The she-cat gave away no betrayal of recognition to Leopardtail and the time she had trained her before she joined the clans. After all this time, she was still keeping the elder's secret.

Snowthaw had grown a lot since Leopardtail had last seen her; physically and in a way less tangible. Leopardtail, though she had shrunken a touch with age, was not a small cat. In her prime she was big and muscular for a she-cat. But Snowthaw had her beat on that front. She was a large, powerful young warrior. She'd be an asset to her clan in a fight. It made the elder wish she'd been able to join Marshclan even more. They could do with some more good fighters these days. There was also experience in those stark blue eyes now. No longer was Snowthaw a frightened kit who knew nothing. Though Leopardtail had done little to get her there in the grand scheme, she couldn't help but feel pride.

"We're waiting for them to return yes." Tuataratail answered after glancing at Leopardtail. "Our respected elder here is Blackbird's mother."

Snowthaw nodded to her, a knowing gleam in her eye; a fondness that Tuataratail didn't catch. "I pray to Starclan for your deputy and daughter's safe return." Leopardtail returned the nod with a small hum.

"My good friend is in the patrol sent from Fieldclan, and Heronstar was my mentor. It's hard not being with them." Snowthaw replied, looking across the twoleg fence and into the scrub of the rogue territory.

"Strong cat like you, why didn't they send you?" Leopardtail asked with a small narrowing of her eyes and a mildly accusing tone to further play her grumpy elder role.

"Leopardtail!" Tuataratail sounded mildly scandalized and looked like he was wondering why it was always him stuck elder-sitting her. "You can't just-"

"It's fine." Snowthaw replied with a little laugh. "It's not like it's a big secret or anything; I was just already assigned to hunt today. I was with Poppypelt but we split up and I've been trying to track her down again." Leopardtail had to wonder if there wasn't something more to Heronleg's reasoning, for it seemed odd not to just send another cat hunting instead of leaving one of their strongest cats out of the attack, but she wasn't curious enough to press it. Fieldclan was Fieldclan.

"How goes things with the twolegs?" Tuataratail asked pensively. "We've been seeing them now and then in our own territory." He shook his large head. "They're like a bee swarm these days; all over the place in areas they never went before."

Snowthaw made a face and huffed lightly. "They've been a damn nuisance, in truth. They're out here in the field most days, and after what happened it's too dangerous to be seen by them. It makes half our territory unusable, even if they weren't scaring off all the prey anyway."

The elder was about to ask Snowthaw about how the hunting was when the otherwise quiet field around them was disturbed by a yowl. Her head whipped around so fast she almost felt like she could have cracked her own neck.

Crossing back through the fence was Bogstar. He had a new scratch, stark against his white fur, but seemed otherwise unharmed. Other cats began to appear out of the scrub, following behind. It had been too short a time… Most of the group looked unhurt, but shocked or angry. Why were they already back?

She then spied Blackbird, being supported between the Fernclan deputy and Clawstrike. She was bloodied and looked faint, just barely dragging her paws along in the dirt. Her… ear was missing. There was nothing but some tatters and a bloody hole left where it should be.

Her usual composure and aloof sense that she held melted at the sight of her injured kit. In that moment, Blackbird might as well still be in the nursery, and she herself still a mothering queen. She rushed down the hillside, stumbling in her urgency. Snowthaw and Tuataratail were there to catch her before she fell and they had another injured cat on their paws. She ignored their presence, and even pushed past her leader to get to her daughter.

"Blackbird!" She cried, an elder's rasp rarely entering her voice with her distress. She licked her daughter's shiny black head, now stained with crimson.

"Mum." The deputy murmured in response with a little smile, eyes looking up to her a bit unfocused.

"What happened?!" Leopardtail demanded the cats around her at large with a snarling edge.

"That new rogue leader… Graves…" Earthshatter started, looking dark.

"He's dangerous. Too dangerous to have alive." Bogstar growled as he moved closer. "He had his cats tear her ear off to make a point. He was going to do worse if we didn't leave…"

"So you gave into his demands?!" The elder snapped at him.

"If I hadn't Blackbird would have more parts missing or be dead!" Bogstar didn't back down, squaring up to the elder who was still twice his size even at her advanced age. "I get you are angry Leopardtail; we all are. But then wasn't the time…"

"The fact he let us leave worries me." Heronstar piped up, nodding her head to Snowthaw as they exchanged a glance. "Of course, his forces were largely not prepared and outnumbered, but still… He gave Blackbird back. He could have just killed her. Why?"

Leopardtail was as miserably quiet as the rest of them in the face of the Fieldclan leader's worries.


	19. Chapter 17

Icestar was spitting and so furious by the time the Clawclan cats let them out of the pit after the raiding party left, that he actually launched straight at Graves. Rookpaw was only just being helped out of the pit herself and it was the first thing she saw, causing her to gasp in shock. Luckily for the thin tom, his clanmates were quick to keep the irate Gorseclan leader at bay.

"What the fuck do you think you are doing, Graves?!" Icestar snarled, spittle leaving his undershot jaw as he tried to push through the four cats blocking him from their leader. "You just let them go!"

"I did." Graves replied, all too calm. The scarred she-cat that Rookpaw was fairly certain was his deputy was at his side. Her muzzle was bloodstained. Was she the one who…? Rookpaw tried to force the sound of the Marshclan deputy's screeching out of her head so she could fully pay attention. Mist was there, looming over her, as if expecting she might do something to help Icestar. The apprentice lowered her ears meekly. She didn't want these cats to ever think she was a threat!

"I say again, do you mean to betray me?!" The white tom roared, almost shoving one of the Clawclan cats holding him back completely flat.

"And I repeat, _no_." Graves eyed the other leader blandly. "I know I need you and your clan as an ally, as things stand. We would not survive otherwise. At least, not in the way I intend or without some serious work..." He cast his pale gaze over his small, proto-clan. "But, I am not Sting. Our relationship changes from today…"

The sickly-looking cat stood, giving himself a small scratch, and pounced off his rock. "Sting respected only power… he craved it and he feared it and so even when he didn't agree he listened to you out of fear for what you may do if he did not… but I respect more than brute strength alone, Icestar. This is something you must learn about me." He paced back and forth before Icestar, who still had his teeth bared, but had stilled to listen. "I will not simply send my cats to do all your dirty work and fight all your battles; not anymore. I expect a plan. A _real plan_. I expect equal standing with you and your clan. I expect all you promised Sting and more; more land, more prey, more cats… or I can promise_ you_, that I am quite happy to make a deal with your enemies instead, whatever it takes. I will rip every single one of your supposed nine lives from you, if you become a threat… For us, we want only to _survive_, and live our lives in peace at the end…"

His speech was pretty, and full of threat, but Rookpaw didn't know if she trusted Graves and those pretty words and threats. Even if Icestar agreed… would this cat keep his end of the deal? He seemed… so cruel. Bloodthirsty… Did they really only want a peaceful existence where they could thrive?

Icestar looked torn. He looked furious. He looked embarrassed, almost… "I will…" He glanced around, small yellow eyes darting and thoughtful. Was he weighing his options? Surely, he knew to fight now was a bad idea? He was only one cat. He knew Rookpaw would be no help. Despite all his hard training on her so far, she was no better and fighting. "I will consider your proposal and your terms, Graves." Icestar's tone was cautious. He straightened, and the cats around him backed away slightly, but still blocked his path to the skinny grey tom. "I will consult with Starclan on how to proceed. This does not line up with what they instructed."

Graves let out a little mocking laugh, but he inclined his head just a little afterward. "Very well Icestar, go speak with your ghosts in the stars, if it helps you. But I will not wait long. You will meet me here again in two nights." His tail flicked back and forth, slowly. "Two nights, and if you don't show, or you refuse me… Well, consider our partnership null."

Icestar didn't nod back. He turned on his heel and stalked away towards the camp exit. "Rookpaw!" He bellowed at her over his shoulder, and she scurried after him. She fell into step at his side, and dared not look at him, or say a word. To discuss a single thing that had happened with him… Well, she wasn't stupid! She could practically feel his rage rolling off his tense body in waves.

"Mist!" Graves' voice barked at their backs. "Escort them to our border, would you…? Oh, and take Blackhorse and Pinepaw with you."

Rookpaw's ears twitched, not at Mist confirming she'd do as told, but at the names Graves spoke. Traditional warrior names? None of the former rogues and loners and kittypets in Clawclan had taken clan names yet… But, some of the former Gustclan prisoners were sent here, right? Then it had to be them. She glanced back, and she was certain Graves was staring at her with those cold eyes. She quickly looked back to the front, feeling the fur on her back rise. Creepy…

Mist approached with a low meow, a nervous black she-cat and a younger spotted smoke tabby tom at her heels. The younger cat was smaller, like he as a newer apprentice; he looked about her age. They both had sleek fur with thicker tufts at their faces and near their feet, like Rookpaw. She'd never seen another cat with that trait before, so they intrigued her a little.

Both seemed determined to look anywhere but at the other cats before them. They were both thin, a bit ratty in appearance. Old scars and new ones scattered their bodies. The apprentice had a fresher one across his nose. It seemed like, as it was in Gorseclan, the two prisoners were at the bottom of the pole. It meant more here than at home too, as it seemed by the scraps over food earlier and their contentment with physical punishment… well, it wasn't hard for Rookpaw to put two and two together in how these cats ended up this way. At least she could say the prisoners in Gorseclan weren't directly mistreated in such a manner.

At least not that she'd seen.

"Shall we?" Mist asked, her voice far too cheerful considering what Rookpaw knew the other she-cat had just taken part in. The two ex-Gustclan cats nodded meekly. Icestar just snorted, clearly still too angry for real words. "You can tell me what you learned on patrol with Flax and Ferretstrike yesterday, Pinepaw." The apprentice nodded again, with a soft hum. Rookpaw wondered who his mentor was.

Mist asked Pinepaw about scents and other normal apprentice stuff as they walked, but otherwise there was a tense silence while they approached the Gorseclan border. Rookpaw was certain that the older Gustclan cat, Blackhorse, hadn't looked up from her paws once the entire time.

It wasn't until they reached the border that Rookpaw finally caught her eye. They were crossing over. Icestar stalked on ahead, not saying a word. He was stewing… Rookpaw just hoped she wasn't going to get an earful of his anger once they were away from the border line. She at least decided to show some manners, even if the Clawclan cats scared her. "Thank you for your escort." She dipped her head to Mist and the other two as she hesitated at the border.

The apprentice dipped his head nervously back, still avoiding eye-contact. Mist just let out a non-committal grunt and turned on her heel, ready to turn back. The older black she-cat; Blackhorse, Graves had called her, however, finally looked up enough at the sound of her voice for Rookpaw to catch her eye.

Yellow stared wide-eyed into orange. Rookpaw blinked in confusion as she watched Blackhorse's expression shift, almost as if in slow-motion. Meek fear to a spark of… something? Recognition? Shock. Definitely. The she-cat's mouth fell open.

Mist looked back with an annoyed expression as she realised Blackhorse was not following her. "Hey-"

"Could it be…?" Blackhorse spoke over the top of the Clawclan cat, her voice surprisingly strong despite a rasp that seemed to come from lack of recent use and her hushed, surprised tone. Rookpaw took a step back, baffled by what this crazy cat was up to. Icestar was already out of sight.

"Umm." The apprentice let out a nervous hum, taking another step back as Blackhorse took one forward, closer to her. Pinepaw was looking between them, seemingly equally as baffled as Rookpaw was.

Blackhorse was trembling, her eyes watery, her jaw working trying to mouth words that seemed not to be able to escape the she-cat. It was such a bizarre reaction all of a sudden that Rookpaw was worried she was ill and having some sort of episode. At least, until she spoke again, her voice naught but a emotional whisper...

"Nightkit, is… is that you?"


	20. Chapter 18

Rookpaw blinked slow, standing in place.

"Mother, what-" Pinepaw was the first to speak and move. He padded in front of Blackhorse, his expression confused and worried. "Nightkit died… with Spottedkit…" His tone was hushed, as if speaking of something forbidden.

"No! A mother never forgets!" Blackhorse insisted, pushing her son aside not ungently. Her eyes continued a wide, pained stare at Rookpaw. It made the apprentice decidedly uncomfortable. "She's grown, so grown… and she carries Gorseclan stink… but I _know_ that is my kit! Look at her! Doesn't she look like me?!"

"I'm- I.." Rookpaw stammered, unsure what to do. She then shook her head with resolve, totally denying any possibility of what the cat was saying could be true. It was crazy! "I'm Rookpaw; a Gorseclan cat with Gorseclan littermates and parents!" This cat wasn't well, or she was just mistaken… Her clan wouldn't lie to her. Why would she be from some Gustclan queen? It made no sense. "I'm sorry you lost a kit; I really am, but I'm not them!"

"Nightkit-!" Blackhorse started, but she was cut off as Mist shoved her back roughly with a push of her powerful shoulders.

"Mother!" Pinepaw whimpered, bracing the black she-cat.

"Alright that's enough of that!" The grey she-cat snapped. "We're going back to camp." Her tail was lashing, clearly showing her irritation, but there was an uncertainty on Mist's face too. She shoved at Blackhorse again to get her moving, teeth bared. "Get going or I'll claw you." She spat before glancing back to Rookpaw with a tiny dip of her head. "Sorry about that, don't know what's gotten into the mad thing. Usually so quiet… Gustclan cats, am I right?"

"…Right." Was all Rookpaw could say back. This seemed to be enough for Mist, for the Clawclan cat started moving Blackhorse off. The black she-cat had fallen into a fearful silence; flinching at Mist's prods. She looked back to Rookpaw, almost pleadingly. The apprentice had to look away, unable to meet a grief-filled desperate pair of yellow eyes.

Pinepaw lingered. "I'm sorry about that. She's… not been the same since we…" He trailed off, though Rookpaw could guess what he was alluding to. Rookpaw had been told it was wrong to feel sorry for the Gustclan cats; that it had been for their own good and now they were part of something bigger, but still. It had to have been so hard on them to lose their home and their defiant clanmates. "I… I don't know what's going on… Maybe, maybe you do look like you could be…" He shyly looked at her in the face then shuffled his paws. "If you think… well, you should talk to my father, he might be more..." The tom sighed, briefly looking to his mother. "His name is Larkcry. He's supposed to be in your camp as one of your prisoners…"

"Pinepaw hurry up or I'll give your ears a lashing too! Graves will be hearing of this!"

Mist's yell from the undergrowth had the apprentice startle with a panicked expression, and he was quick to turn on his heels and run after her. Rookpaw watched him vanish into the scrub, shaken by the whole encounter. It took her a while before she started back towards camp, her mind heavy with uneasy thoughts… It was nonsense of course… but it was unsettling… She was a Gorseclan cat. Wasn't she?

Padding into camp with her head down, mind racing, Rookpaw was quickly accosted by Applepaw. "There you are!" He wasn't yowling, but with his shrill voice it was just as piercing to Rookpaw's sensitive ears. "Icestar came back without you; he looked in a real bad mood. When mum asked where you were he just snapped that you probably got lost again and she was welcome to go look for you…" Applepaw pointed his nose towards the leader's den at the base of the cliff. "He stormed off in there with Hornetclaw and Sorrelfur after that. Did something bad happen at the meeting? Tell me all the juicy details!" The young tom's eyes shone at the prospect of gossip. He was a shocking busy-body.

"I'll tell you later." She muttered in reply, looking around him towards the den. "Did mother go?" Her question was somewhat distracted, but if Flowerdust had gone out looking for her, she'd have to go find her and show she was okay.

"Oh?" Applepaw's ear flicked as she pushed his disappointed expression off his face. "Oh, no. Not yet. She was going around asking if other cats would- ah, see there she is!" Sure enough Flowerdust was talking with Ruffledmane and Mottledtail on the other side of camp. The tom turned and called out to his mother, who he so resembled in appearance. "Oi, she's back mum! See? Rookpaw's back!"

Flowerdust perked up immediately, and after mewing a quick word to the other two warriors, bounded over. "Rookpaw!" She purred as she neared her children, looking relieved. "I'm so glad you're okay… when Icestar came back without you I was so worried!"

"I'm fine… just got a little distracted on the way home." Rookpaw returned the head rub her mother offered her, feeling slightly reassured. See? Would a cat who was not her real parent care so much? Flowerdust loved her. She was her mother. She wouldn't lie to her.

And yet, her eyes drifted towards the den where the prisoners were kept as she embraced Flowerdust, mind equally drifting to Pinepaw's words about a "Larkcry". That he could offer extra credit or lack thereof to Blackhorse's conviction.

"Rookpaw, sweetie, are you alright?" Flowerdust's voice brought her attention back. Those green eyes searched the apprentice's face. "You seem a bit out of it."

"Oh, no." Rookpaw was quick to make herself brighten up, giving her head a little shake. "No, I'm okay! Just a little tired from the long walk." She insisted. She didn't want to make Flowerdust worry.

The she-cat was quick to seem to believe her, giving her a quick lick on the head and then moving off to return to her duties with the promise to share a mouse later.

Rookpaw watched her go with a heavy, conflicted heart. She felt like she'd aged many moons since she'd become an apprentice. Applepaw was ushered off to do some last minute hunting with his mentor, leaving her to stand in the camp's clearing alone as she looked up towards Icestar's den, wondering what he was talking to his deputy and brother about. And why only the two of them. His deputy and mate alone she could understand, but usually if Hornetclaw was in a leader's meeting then it was all of Icestar's most trusted warriors together… Thickstripe, Spiderstreak, Creampelt and Smokeblaze and Dappledshade.

The latter-most cat had been noticeable not only in her lack of presence near Icestar's side, but in her general absence, in fact. Her tortoiseshell pelt and icy eyes were easy to spot, but lately it seemed like she'd been out of camp a lot. Her brother Mistheart too. Perhaps Icestar had them on a special task.

She looked away; it was all too much and made her head hurt. Did her siblings or Honeypaw and Pebblepaw worry about stuff like this, or was it just her? Honeypaw maybe, being the deputy's apprentice…? The black she-cat caught Flowerdust's eye as she worked on maintaining the camp wall fortifications. She offered her mother a shy little return smile, and then turned towards her den. Her stomach growled, but she ignored it in favour of just wanting to sit down outside the den for a while to rest and think.

Part of her wondered if she should just ask her mother about all this stuff with Blackhorse thinking she was her lost kit, but it seemed like an insult to do so when she had no real proof of it but the word of a grieving mother. Maybe she just needed to speak to this Larkcry and set the record straight like Pinepaw had suggested. Surely, he'd offer her proof that this Nightkit was long dead, and that the mate he was separated from was just projecting…

And this wasn't all that was on her mind. The words of the Clawclan leader rang in her ears along with Blackhorse's cries. But on that front, Icestar would get it all under control… He had to. He would know what to do, or Starclan would guide him on the right path. He was their chosen leader, after all. Such matters were beyond an apprentice's reach; even one who apparently could dream of the past.


	21. Chapter 19

Rookpaw opened her eyes. She was standing in the centre of camp and stuck with a bizarre sense of déjà vu. The sky above was the one from when she returned to camp from Clawclan that day; a bit overcast with a changing wind. The same scents and sounds and cats moving about camp. The only difference was she could not feel the gentle, cool breeze on her fur, the ground beneath her pads. She blinked, confused. The familiar floaty feeling ran through her body, and the paws beneath her held that transparent look. Another past-dream. Her first since she had dreamed of the dog attack on Smallstep's patrol.

A past dream of that day? Why? A strange, creepy sort of feeling raced through her spine as her mother ran through her ghostly form. Running to speak to… her. It was the first time she'd seen her past-time self in one of these dreams. She watched herself and Flowerdust embrace with a strange sort of curiosity. Ugh, look at that cowlick of fur sticking up on her past-self's head. How had she not gotten that grooming that morning? Had she had that the entire time she was in Clawclan? Rookpaw watched her mother smooth it down with her lick. She missed that at the time. Still, Rookpaw was puzzled. Why this? Why _this _time? What did she need to see?

She turned away from the scene she had lived. It couldn't be anything to do with those moments. She had her own memory for that. Rookpaw truly believed these dreams had some sort of point to them. There had to be something here she needed to hear or observe. Something she'd missed when she'd lived it hours ago… She just had to find it. It had to be close by.

Her first thought, likely as it had been on her mind before she fell asleep, was to seek out Larkcry. Rookpaw was quick to shake the thought from her head. No, no, she would need to meet with him in person to get any answer out of him, what was the point spying on him in her dream where she couldn't be seen or heard? He very well may not have even been in camp at this time; the prisoners often were put to warrior tasks.

And then she realized. Icestar's meeting. It had to be! After all, she'd been placed to hear in his den before. She thought back to the meeting she'd overheard between Icestar and Longtail; the medicine cat's words he'd shared from Starclan. Rookpaw had thought about it now and then, and still couldn't figure out what it meant. Any more than Longtail's assumption it was talking about Icestar.

The apprentice lingered at the leader's den entranceway. It wasn't just unreasonable nerves. Part of her felt wrong; going to overhear private conversations… but it seemed like that was the purpose of all this. Was it Starclan? Was there something here they wanted her to see? Again, she felt she should really try and speak to Longtail about this, but the idea frightened her… She shook her head. Best not fret about that now; she needed to be focused.

Rookpaw padded into the den, head low. She could hear Icestar's voice as she drew near to the cavern in the back of the tunnel-like entrance. He sounded angry and frustrated, his deep voice reverberating off the stone walls.

"I will not allow that little _rat_ to walk all over me!" The leader was spitting. Rookpaw peered around the rim of the cavern. He was not seated in his nest all composed like he had been with Longtail; instead, the big white tom paced furiously up and down in front of Sorrelfur and Hornetclaw.

Rookpaw blinked slowly. He had to be talking about Graves. Despite the fact she was invisible and untouchable, she couldn't bring herself to get too close to her angry mentor, and so sat down nearer to the back of the den to observe whatever it was she was here for.

"You said so yourself, we need his support; we need the extra force of his cats at least for now. We can't beat three clans united." Sorrelfur commented calmly, ear flicking as Icestar stalked by her, glancing her way as she spoke. She was always a very logical cat. Perhaps Icestar chose her as his deputy not just because she was his mate, but to balance him? Rookpaw got the impression he was lead sometimes less by his head and more by his emotions, chiefly his anger. Sorrelfur never gave her that impression. She was coolly using her head, always. "Promise the flea-bitten wretch what he wants. If needs be we can deal with him after the war is won."

"If he even lives that long." Hornetclaw snorted, examining one paw's claws with a bored expression, like he wasn't that interested in being here. He picked off a bit of shedding claw and spat it across the floor. "Have you _seen_ the creature? Looks like he'll drop dead of whatever disease ails him before long. I don't think that Gustclan medicine cat they took can heal _that, _even before they shredded her ears to bits and broke her will_._"

Icestar glared at his brother, causing him to straighten up a little. The leader snarled, snapping his teeth together. Rookpaw could easily imagine him pretending the air was Graves' neck. "This is not how things are supposed to go! Starclan _promised_ me that if I did as they instructed…" He shook his great head, and for the first time, Rookpaw thought she saw confusion in those blazing orange eyes. "I must consult with them."

"Then go to Starfalls." His mate replied plainly. "Why wait for them to offer you a dream? Go to the source."

The confusion on Icestar's face vanished quickly back to anger as he turned his leer onto his deputy instead. "I _cannot_; you know this Sorrelfur! My Starclan guides have warned me to stay away from that place; that Moonfall and those other leaders have _tainted_ it! I will get no guidance of worth in a corrupted sacred land." This gave the hidden apprentice pause, her eyes going wide. Starfalls was corrupted? How? In what way? The thought made Rookpaw's heart and head hurt. That was where leaders went to get nine lives, where they and medicine cats went to communicate with Starclan! If something was wrong there, then that was… horrible! Why had Icestar not told the clan about this? It was something every clan cat should know!

"I say stop waiting around and _act_, brother. _Fuck_ Graves. We've got enough cats to deal with some things on our own." Hornetclaw replied impatiently, his thick short tail brushing across the stone. "When have _you_ ever waited around to be told what to do? A cat who sits around wailing for Starclan isn't who I grew up with; who beat me at every turn!"

Icestar looked thoughtful then, and it gave Rookpaw a terrible sense of foreboding.

The leader's pacing slowed, but he kept moving. The energy about him shifted into something more controlled and predatory; powerful muscles rippling under fur with each heavy step across the rock. "Yes, yes… you are right Hornetclaw…" Icestar mused. "Graves is getting uppity, _fine_. But Gorseclan is a formidable force on its own still. The other clans will be licking their wounded pride after their failed raid on the Clawclan camp… They won't move again quickly; they need to regroup, and with three clans to coordinate it will take time to organize." He was thinking out loud, looking at his brother and his mate now and then for approval. "Going after Clawclan makes me think they understand that we've laid a trap for them here… they planned to avoid coming to us without removing the threat of our allies first." He lifted his head decisively, a gleam Rookpaw did not like in his eye. "The training of the warriors and apprentices goes well?" He asked Sorrelfur with a narrowed gaze.

"I've been overseeing it all myself, sir." Sorrelfur purred low; she dipped her head, not taking her eyes off her leader and mate. The respect and admiration she held for him was clear in that look. Rookpaw had never observed them to be a particularly loving couple, but they obviously had their attraction and loyalty to each other all the same. A drifting thought wondered why they'd never had kits. "We've made good progress."

"Excellent. Then I think it is time we put the training to a practical test… It will be good to see more than just how the training is progressing too…" His tail flicked back and forth, considering. "As we've discussed, I need to know who in the clan is the most dependable, and who's loyalty may _waver._" Rookpaw wondered if this was why he only had his mate and brother in this meeting. Were these the only cats he currently truly trusted right now? Once, Spiderstreak had always been at his side, but these days, ever since Sting died in the failed attack on Fieldclan, the former rogue was seeming to be left aside more and more. "Marshclan is the smallest and closest to us… And their camp is the least easy to defend. Their deputy is… indisposed too. They'll be without her in the fight."

"Time we paid them a den-call then, brother?" Hornetclaw said slowly, excitement on his face as he stood up. Rookpaw wrapped her tail around herself nervously. Was this what she needed to see? Was this a warning about the fight to come? She… she didn't want to fight. She was horrible at it besides…

"Yes, I haven't had the chance to pay my respects to their new leader yet. I think I should rectify that." Icestar let out a sound somewhere between a growl and a purr as he exchanged a head-bump with Sorrelfur then laid his tail onto the cream tom's back in gestures of comradery.

He looked ahead, as if he could visualize his grand conquest; seeing something far away that no other cat could see. The vision of a new future Starclan was leading him to, where he united all the clans and stopped the prophesied doom.

To Rookpaw, it was like he was looking right at her, right _through_ her, and the blazing look in the leader's eyes sent a shivering sensation down her spine. She could not feel cold in her dreams, but she could imagine it.


	22. Chapter 20

The weather seemed to be mimicking Rookpaw's mood the next morning. It was overcast and cold; a tension in the air that spoke of rain about to break through. The young apprentice huddled under the overhanging entrance of the den, her fur fluffed up against the chill.

Her dream last night had her decidedly on edge. She had woken up before the sun had peeked over the cliff and had sat and watched it rise. She was just waiting for Icestar to announce the attack now. It didn't sound like he was going to dither around to strike Marshclan. It filled her with a nervous energy… While Icestar's mission from Starclan had told him he had to bring the other clans under his control, Rookpaw didn't like the idea of her clan going into bloody battle with another to do so. She wished the other clans had just surrendered peacefully. She feared for her clanmates and despised the idea of such violence.

What was worse, a black feather had turned up overnight. She'd found it on the ground in the pre-dawn light outside the den. She marveled how he managed to do this without getting caught, but he'd clearly perfected infiltrating the camp without being seen. Not a hint of the Fernclan scent the red tom now carried lingered where he'd been. She'd be more impressed if she weren't so worried. Rowanfall wanted to speak to her today, but she wasn't sure if she'd find an excuse to sneak to their meeting spot. The camp was going to be super on edge after Icestar announced the attack. Excusing herself to head out alone… not going to happen.

Rookpaw glanced back to the sleeping forms of her peers. Silverpaw was probably going to be excited, but she'd be disappointed. There was no way they'd be going; they were too fresh to be heading into such a fight. Maybe Pebblepaw and Honeypaw would go. Sorrelfur might take her apprentice after all, and Smudgepelt was also experienced enough to be heading out for the fight too. Orange eyes shifted to their grey and cream pelts. She didn't want them to get hurt either. They were both really nice and sweet; although Pebblepaw could be brash sometimes. He wasn't nearly close to Silverpaw's bravado though, so he was easy to tolerate in those moments.

She watched other members of the clan rise; stretching and grooming and frowning up at the sky. Soft mewing of kits sounded out from the queen's den. The guard; Smokeblaze, making sure the former Gustclan queens stayed put let out a bored yawn. Her eyes kept flicking the entrance of Icestar's den as she toyed with the feather in her paws, anticipating him to come out and call a meeting. Sorrelfur came out of the warrior's den and entered the leader's. It would be soon then…

Rookpaw was so distracted by her observations and her nervous anticipation, that she totally missed Venompaw approaching. "Rookpaw." His dry voice had her jump, and her surprise caused him to chuckle low. "Relax." He continued as she smoothed her fur down after whipping around to face him. "I just wanted to speak to you." He was always quick to get to the point, was Venompaw. Despite his tone containing it's usual "I'm always bored" quality, there was a look in the young tom's eyes that betrayed… what was it? Curiosity? Anxiety? Rookpaw couldn't pick it out in the hard-to-read cat.

"Yeah sure." She replied, letting out a little breath to relax. "What's up?"

"Not here." He mumbled back lowly, his little stump of a tail wiggling. She wondered if it would be flicking if he had a full one. "It's not something I want overheard. Come gather herbs with me. Longtail needs some more."

"I-" Rookpaw looked down at the feather under her paws. She would likely miss the announcement that she knew was coming if she went out of camp now. Part of her wondered why it felt so important she hear it, but then, there had to be a reason she'd had that dream last night. "I was waiting for Icestar." He was her mentor and often took her out early. It wasn't unusual.

"He can wait; we won't be long. Unless there's something else…?" Damn him, he was too perceptive.

"He said to me yesterday he was going to announce a clan meeting this morning." She lied quickly, stammering slightly and just hoping it was convincing enough.

Venompaw's black ears perked and his amber eyes narrowed. "Oh? Is it important?"

"I think so."

The medicine cat apprentice looked thoughtful, glancing between her and the leader's den where it looked like there was movement around the entrance. There was something dark in his expression. "Well then, perhaps I shall stick around to listen… we can talk later, Rookpaw. I'll find you."

She mewed a small goodbye, but the tom was already walking away. She huffed once he was out of earshot. That guy. She could barely pin him down and figure out what was going on in his head… What on earth did she want to speak to _her_ about? He'd always been rather dismissive of her, she thought. She was just a silly, shy little kit who took too long gathering herbs.

Rookpaw then felt eyes on her, and following the sensation, she spied Dappledshade watching as she lingered around the fresh kill pile. Had she taken notice of Venompaw speaking to her? It wasn't like it happened every day. Perhaps the warrior was just curious. Those cool blue eyes looked away after a beat as Rookpaw met them, and the apprentice wasn't able to ponder further on the matter, for it was then that Icestar walked out of his den with Sorrelfur on his heels.

Rookpaw swallowed nervously, toying with Rowanfall's feather as he was quick to leap up onto the rock outcrop where he gave announcements. Sorrelfur sat herself neatly beneath the stone, her expression set but calm. Her tabby and white fur perfectly groomed. A picture perfect loyal deputy.

As Icestar's booming voice called the early morning meeting, Windheart approached her, asking her to wake the other apprentices before turning his attention back to Icestar. She hadn't seen much of her father (or… was he?) lately. All the warriors had been busy, and with her own training. As the pointed tom approached, Rookpaw noticed how much, colour aside, Rowanfall looked like him. Their faces were strikingly similar. He was definitely his older son alright. As her siblings emerged sleepily and grumpily from the den with Cavepaw and Honeypaw in tow, Rookpaw reflected that Silverpaw also had that stronger jawline and sharp angled skull of theirs… albeit a little different as she was still young. Cavepaw had his father's colours and his mother's form. Applepaw might as well be a slightly different shaded clone of Flowerdust. And then there was her. Black of fur and short and round of body with unique tufts of fur that none of her family shared. She looked out of place. She'd always felt it a little, with her shyer personality, but she'd never really thought about the physical differences… She wasn't like strong Rowanfall and Silverpaw or sleek and elegant Applepaw and Cavepaw. But who _had_ looked a bit like her? Who _had_ had a smaller, compact form and tufted fur at their feet? Blackhorse and Pinepaw…

Rookpaw shook her head, chasing away the thoughts that made her head swim and an uncomfortable tightness overcome her chest. Dammit. She shouldn't be thinking about this now. Icestar was looking down on the gathering crowd of cats. Even the elders were in the throng. The clan had a curious energy. It was unusual for a meeting to be called this early. They could tell it would be important. As Rookpaw padded with heavy feet to join the others, she could see the heads of a couple of the queens poking out of the den, peering around the guard's back. She could just see one of Hare's kits, who were the oldest and starting to want to leave the den more, being gently pulled back as he tried to get a look.

"I apologize for how early this meeting is, cats of Gorseclan." Icestar began just as Rookpaw sat down next to her siblings. "But unfortunately, this matter cannot wait till the sun is further above us."

"Is something wrong?" Asked Thickstripe, his already serious face turning darker. "There's a dawn patrol out there already; they'll miss the meeting."

"The dawn patrol will be filled in when they return." Sorrelfur answered briskly for her mate and leader. "We don't have time to waste."

"Yes, brothers and sisters. I'm afraid that moving quickly is essential here… but I trust that you are all prepared. We've been training for moons now." The white tom rumbled low, his voice almost solemn. Rookpaw knew it was a lie.

"So, it's a fight then?" Creampelt asked, reservation in her tone. She was so unlike her battle-hungry brothers. Hornetclaw sat on one side of her with a smug, excited expression; her mate Smokeblaze reservedly on the other.

"Yes." Icestar confirmed definitively, his voice loud and clear for all cats to hear. Immediately murmuring broke out, but he was quick to settle the clan back to silence as he kept speaking. "We will conduct a strike on Marshclan while they are in a regrouping state… yesterday they tried and failed to raid the Clawclan camp, along with cats from both Fieldclan and Fernclan."

"Wait, a _raid_ happened while you were there?!" Smokeblaze's neutral expression shifted to surprise and a degree of annoyance. "Why were we not informed of this; at least the senior warriors?" He glanced around at his peers in the crowd. "What happened?"

"The raid failed, and Clawclan did not even gain a serious injury in their cats. I didn't inform all of you because there was precious little time to waste between my return and my discussions with Sorrelfur about our own strike." Rookpaw noticed how he left out that he had also spoken with Hornetclaw. Just talking to his deputy alone made it sound less bad than only trusting one of his senior warriors alone, who happened to be his brother. Icestar's gaze turned stern as it looked down at the grey-blue tom. "That's all you need to know, Smokeblaze." His tone offered no room to argue further, and so the senior warrior fell silent, though Rookpaw could see by the look on his face he still wasn't satisfied with that.

"Our own raid on the Marshclan camp will be _today_." Sorrelfur was quick to move the subject onward, body language and clipped voice oozing authority. "We will strike while they are regrouping and rip their camp out root and stem as we did with Gustclan. Their insolent refusal of our cause has gone on long enough. This obstruction due to the other leader's pride has put us all in danger."

"Once Marshclan has been brought to heel, the other two should follow easily enough. It will be an end to this pointless war, and the goal of following Starclan's will can finally be carried out as intended." Icestar followed on from the deputy's words, holding himself proudly. "This is what you've all been training for, Gorseclan. I know you are ready…"

Rookpaw scanned the crowd. Many cats looked up with various expressions that told her they were with Icestar and his plan. Excitement, boldness and bravery, resolve, determination, admiration. Standing strong despite being worried. But still others were more interesting faces. She caught sight of Venompaw in the crowd, and his was dark and glaring. Longtail looked petrified. Flowerdust was shaking, holding barely contained fear and worry. She was a gentle soul… Rookpaw knew she hated fighting too. Windheart was frowning at his mate, though the apprentice couldn't tell if it was out of worry or not. Spiderstreak was off on his own, and his gaze was narrow and leering. He didn't seem to care much about what Icestar was saying, but… was he angry? She could see jealousy and betrayal and rage there in the former rouge's eyes, and it frightened her.

A little off on their own too was Mistheart and Dappledshade; Hedgefur not more than half a catlength from where they sat so close together their pelts touched. They were murmuring to each other, though Hedgefur just had his ears angled towards their conversation and otherwise seemed impassive. Every so often they looked up at Icestar. Rookpaw couldn't read them so easily, but there was obviously some sort of problem there… What on earth was going on with those two? It seemed like Hedgefur was in on whatever it was now. Had Icestar noticed this behaviour? If he did, he said nothing. He wasn't even looking their way.

Icestar was speaking again, recapturing Rookpaw's attention. "Sorrelfur and I have discussed who will be going and who will be staying already… Spiderstreak, Flowerdust, Ruffledmane, Creampelt and the prisoners will remain to protect the camp and guard the queens and elders… Everyone else is with me and Sorrelfur to strike the camp." The rain was starting to fall above now, and Icestar seemed to raise his voice in defiance to the beginning of the bad weather. In truth, it would probably work to his advantage attacking Marshclan; they'd be harder to scent.

His eyes turned to Longtail, who was quick to bow his head. "Prepare our stocks for anything." Longtail hummed in wordless obedience, glancing to Venompaw nervously. The medicine cat apprentice just scowled.

If Icestar thought anything of that, he ignored it. "As for the apprentices…" The orange gaze shifted to them, and Rookpaw saw Silverpaw shift in anticipation. She was going to be disappointed. Or so she thought. Rookpaw's eyes went wide at the leader's next words, stomach dropping like a stone.

"They will_ all_ be coming with us."


	23. Chapter 21

Leopardtail padded across the soft ground, old leaf litter and other plant debris under her paws. Her harsh coat was slightly raised up against a few spits of rain and the coolness it brought. She felt it more than she used to. Once, rain hadn't bothered her at all. She moved off the worn patrol trail and towards the trees, her escort quick to let out a little gasp and follow, getting back ahead of her as they moved onto a new path. The elder was thoughtful as she moved; her head low and simply watching where she was putting her feet rather than what was ahead. All she'd see directly in front of her was Mouseheart's little rump anyway.

He was her escort on her morning walk today. The shy runt would never be her first choice but wanting to go out was a bit last minute and most of her preferred warriors were busy. At first, Leopardtail thought that perhaps she should stay and keep an eye on poor Blackbird in the medicine cat den. Her daughter would need some time to recover… but then, she thought, why did the deputy need her elderly mother hanging around? She'd fussed enough the night before. Blackbird was strong of heart under her quirks. Something like losing her ear wouldn't stop her for long… Leopardtail remembered a Fernclan warrior of her time who'd lost his ear in a similar way in a border skirmish and the bastard had been back being a thorn in their side in no time. Wasn't he dead now? Of course, he was. Most of her generation of warriors were, now. So many friends and enemies alike gone… The torch had been passed without her even really taking notice. What a right cock up they were making too! Nothing like this ever happened in her time! The old cat let out a little snort to herself.

Still, despite a desire to keep her daughter close and protect her like the warrior she used to be, Thunderstream was there to watch over and look after Blackbird. She would just be in the way. So, Leopardtail went for her walk, a cat half her size her "protector", ah, what a joke!

She was not taking her usual route today; even before she moved off into the trees for cover from the rain. The dawn patrol went on her normal path towards the Fieldclan border, and so she was on the Fernclan side of Marshclan territory. Still not too far from camp, but she was sure Mouseheart would pipe up any second to tell her they should start heading back. She was sure all her escorts were given express orders not to let her wander too far away.

Sure enough, Mouseheart was starting to glance back at her, uncertain, working his jaw. Trying to work up the courage, eh? He'd always been frightened of her. As a kit, it had been funny and cute. Now it was just sad. The cat was a warrior for Starclan's sake!

"Hold that thought." She growled, just as he opened his mouth. The elder had frozen in place. A particular scent had wafted past her nose. It was faint… not fresh. Hidden under the twoleg stink that seemed to be all over their lands lately. Likely from the day before or last night… But it was a very interesting scent indeed. A certain cat that had been MIA since yesterday… Ratapelt was supposed to go on the raid of the Clawclan camp, but he hadn't returned from a hunting trip to "sooth his nerves" according to his apprentice. At first, Bogstar had thought he'd just chickened out of the attack and sent Windpaw to find him, but they hadn't been able to as he wasn't in their usual hunting spot. This morning he was still gone. He'd been gone all night; no warrior had seen him and his nest was cold. The dawn patrol was told to search for him, and Leopardtail was sure the little leader would have sent other cats out for him too.

"Ratapelt?" Mouseheart questioned as he too picked up the scent.

"Yeah." Leopardtail turned her broad head in the direction it was coming from. "We should probably track him down…"

"He didn't seem the type to abandon a mission like that." The tabby and white tom said nervously, flattening his ears. "I hope he's okay and didn't get in trouble when he was hunting…"

"He probably just got stuck in some blackberry or something." Leopardtail kept her own concern off her face. It had happened before, and it would happen again. It wasn't beyond the realm of possibility... Until she saw signs of something off, she'd try and be positive.

"We should… go find him. The patrol won't pass by here for a while…" Mouseheart was right, and the elder wasn't about to say no to a bit of excitement to break up her day. She nodded, indicating for him to lead the way.

The scent led them further into the swamp trees and undergrowth. This part of the territory sometimes flooded, but for now it was largely dry. Had he come here to hunt? Most cats stayed away because it was a huge amount of blackberry twisting around the other low growing plants here that it made navigating it difficult.

Well, usually anyway. Today, something had changed.

"Take a gander at that." Leopardtail breathed as she noticed heavy twoleg tracks in the soft, muddy ground ahead. They'd also cleared the undergrowth in their path when they came through here, cutting a clear trail. Signs of their activity were everywhere as the cats progressed, still following Ratapelt's scent which overlaid the bizarre twoleg prints. They'd been ripping up plants and cutting branches of trees; a pile of dying foliage lay nearby. Somehow, they'd stained all the large willow's trunks with a red mark. It must mean something to them. For now, at least, they were gone. By the smell, they'd not been here for a couple of days.

"Flamestar told Bogstar they're building a big fence around the valley… Do you think they are trying to trap us in?" Mouseheart said nervously as he sniffed at one of the strange machines the twolegs had left behind, a bright orange thing with a long metal snout covered in serrated teeth.

"Why in Starclan's name would they do that?" Leopardtail snorted dismissively, but a twitch of her nicked ear betrayed her own doubts. She didn't like it, not really. Twolegs always did strange things, but this was a first. What worried her was the news the fence seemed to be designed in a way that could keep even mice from getting through it. A cat could not go over or through, or even under; when the Fernclan patrol tried to dig they just hit more metal. Did they really mean to trap everything that couldn't fly here? For what purpose? Why were they cutting some plants down and planting others? Why had they killed that Fieldclan warrior with their "death sticks"? It made the old cat's head ache. It was madness trying to understand their reasoning; they were twolegs and thus were not understandable to other creatures, but she hated being in the dark… However, they had bigger things to concern themselves with right now. The twoleg issue could come after Icestar was dealt with.

"Come on." She urged Mouseheart onward past the twoleg-things and along the cut path they'd made into the undergrowth. "Ratapelt's scent is leading this way." It had been getting a little stronger; fresher. If he was around here, he couldn't be far. She'd yowl out his name, but wandering around here yelling at the top of her lungs wasn't the best idea, even if the twoleg scent was older. You never know. Leopardtail; despite her brash nature, with her years of experience, preferred to err on the side of caution.

The wind had shifted, drifting the scent away from them and making it harder to follow. Ordinarily, anyway. It seemed to still be following the cut path made by the twolegs. Mouseheart led the way. His senses were probably sharper than hers these days…

"Hello?!" A cry had her head snap up, ears pushing forward. Mouseheart startled; visibly jumping. "Is someone there?!" The elder and the warrior (who was quickly smoothing down his fur with an embarrassed air) exchanged a glance. It was Ratapelt's voice! The wind change must have blown their scent towards him!

"It's Mouseheart and Leopardtail!" The little warrior called back as loud as he could make his meek voice go, starting off towards the sound ahead. "Where are you, Ratapelt? Are you trapped?!"

"Yes, here, here!" He called back, voice a relived yowl. As they pushed through a small cover of plants towards his scent and voice, Leopardtail noticed a red string tied to a tree trunk.

She didn't have time to dwell on it, for Ratapelt was ahead. The red tabby was hunched in a twoleg metal contraption just bigger than a catlength and not tall enough for him to full stand. Solid grey in front, wire in back. What would a kittypet call it? A cage? Something like that… The elder's eyes went wide at the sight. She'd never seen such a thing. "How did this happen?" She demanded, eying the thing warily.

"I was hunting, trying to get the edge off before the raid." Ratapelt replied. He looked glad to see them, if rattled and tired; he likely hadn't been able to get any sleep stuck in this thing overnight. "I smelt fresh kill, so I came to investigate… I came from the other direction." He jerked his head behind himself, where the solid part of the metal trap was. "It was well hidden at the time…" There was scattered leafy branches about. Leopardtail could see them placed over the trap in her mind's eye, likely shaken off when Ratapelt shook the thing trying to escape. "I was careless, really… I could smell twoleg scent, but I blundered right in to get a look. I was confused why there was meat just sitting there like that…" He shook his head, looking shamed, ears drooping. "When I passed over that solid bit, it flew upwards, and trapped me in here. I yowled and yowled, but I guess nobody was close enough to hear me."

"This is only really the perfect size for a cat, and using meat means it wasn't for any prey creature… why are twolegs trying to trap us?" Mouseheart trembled with nerves, tail fluffed out.

Leopardtail said nothing, too busy examining the thing and thinking the same thoughts. She padded around it with narrowed eyes, mind working. She'd never seen anything like it… never heard of anything like it either. And what with the other odd and indeed antagonistic behaviours the twolegs had been presenting lately… it was hard not to immediately take it as another threat. As if they didn't already have enough to worry about!

"Either way." The elder grunted finally. "We need to get Ratapelt out. Worry about the why later…" She examined the more solid end Ratapelt said he entered from. "We need to figure out how to get this up…"

"Can we? It's a twoleg contraption made for their spider-paws." Mouseheart sounded doubtful, but he was quick to fall silent and move closer to Leopardtail when Ratapelt fixed him with a strong stare. Honestly, she wasn't sure if they could. But they had to try…

"We'll do what we can, but we may have to go get more help." The spotted cat gently told the trapped warrior as she pawed at the metal. It was cold and seemed immovable by just pushing on it this way.

He dipped his head, not looking happy about it, but accepting. "I understand. At least you know where I am now." He was calmer than most probably would be. In her youth, she'd likely still be screeching in fury and slamming at the sides, even after this long… Mouseheart probably would have dropped dead of panic by now.

"Which way did it come down? Did you see?" She asked the warrior, peering and prodding at the closed entrance end as she spoke.

"No, but this end was up when I entered, I'm fairly certain." Ratapelt replied, scrabbling at the base of the solid metal where it met the ground. "I've pushed it as hard as I can, and it won't budge. I think some other part must be holding it in place."

"Right then, let's give it a try." Leopardtail said decisively with a little breath. She was too old for this shit, but she would try for her clanmate. Mouseheart moved in beside her, and they tried to get their paws up under the metal and pull it, as Ratapelt pushed as hard as he could, but it didn't move. They couldn't get a good grip. With a huff, Leopardtail looked at the loops and bits of metal above the solid piece. Locking it in place somehow? She reached up, frustrated at the lack of dexterity in paws sore from the walk here. Damn twolegs…

A sudden rumbling raw had all three of the cats startle, though Mouseheart's was certainly the most dramatic. "What in Starclan's name…?" Ratapelt spoke first, his eyes wide. The elder could see in his expression that he really already knew what it was, deep down. It was a sound rarely heard… unless you travelled to the thunderpath. A monster.

"What is it doing here?" Leopardtail muttered to herself. The sound wasn't right next to them, but it was close. Probably at the twoleg path on the border near the river; while very rare, sometimes the monsters slowly trundled along down there across the dirt and grass, bringing twolegs to mess with the fences and weeds. Not far at all. Just down the cut-track… Too close. Monsters meant twolegs. The sound cut off with a couple of loud slams.

"I hear them." Mouseheart crouched low, fear scent rolling off him. Her hearing wasn't as good anymore, but soon the loud twoleg jabber reached her too. Getting closer. They weren't making any effort to be sneaky. "We have to get out of here!"

"We can't leave Ratapelt!" Leopardtail snarled back with cracked and yellowed teeth, desperation straining her voice. Her tail lashed as she began to pace with agitated thought, wracking her brains for a solution. Ratapelt shifted nervously in the cage, tail fluffed out.

"Leopardtail…" The small warrior's whine behind her had the old cat hiss with impatience. She turned to tug at the trap door again. "Leopardtail!" Mouseheart's voice grew more urgent. The twoleg voices were getting closer every second. The cats could hear the tromping of their feet now. The aged warrior ignored them all. This was her clanmate. What heartless bastard would leave him; he who stared with fear and a silent plea for help?

The twolegs couldn't be more than a pawful of lengths away. Mouseheart seized the cat nearly twice his size by the scruff with a growl that was somewhere between terror, heartbreak and frustration. "We have to hide!" He said through a mouthful of her loose skin and thick fur.

Ratapelt looked panicked. "Wait… you can't… You have to help me get out of here!"

Leopardtail almost resisted, but her cold logic told her it was pointless if they got caught too… She stumbled, allowing herself to be pulled into the undergrowth.

"Don't leave me!" Ratapelt's wail, the tom finally breaking as they vanished from sight, nearly tore her heart in two. The twolegs stomped into view. Mouseheart pulled her down to the soft, marsh soil under some ferns. They could just see the cage from where they lay but were invisible to those there. Ratapelt thrashed, throwing himself against the metal as the two twolegs approached, jabbering to each other and pointing at him. He hissed, his fur completely on end as he shrieked at them to stay away. But they didn't understand nor care for his demand. One gave the trap a tap with its foot, and Ratapelt snarled and lashed out, causing it to be quickly withdrawn. The twoleg frowned, rumbling to its companion.

Leopardtail and Mouseheart watched it all in horrified silence. They couldn't move or make a sound, for risk of giving themselves away.

One of the twolegs was carrying something. A black thing not much bigger than their spider-paws. Carefully, the twoleg waved it back and forth over the top of the trap, aiming over Ratapelt's back. The twoleg grunted with possible annoyance as Ratapelt twisted back and forth in the tiny space, making it difficult to do whatever it was doing. It didn't seem to be hurting the warrior. For a second, as she held her breath, Leopardtail dared to hope that maybe they wouldn't harm him.

The black device let out a strange, unnatural beeping sound, and the twoleg clicked their tongue as they brought it back up to examine it. The one holding it barked something to the other and started to walk away. Leopardtail's ears flipped forward. Were they going to leave him alone? Even Mouseheart leaned forward in his low crouch, breath catching.

The other twoleg eyed the cage where Ratapelt continued to hiss at it, sighing. Reaching down with some kind of covering over it's spindly paws, the twoleg picked the trap up by a part that flipped upward at the top. Ratapelt snarled. "Let go!" Through the aggression to intimidate, his terror was clear. He lashed out, but what claw he could get through the wire seemed to do no damage thanks to that covering.

"It's… it's taking him away…!" Leopardtail breathed, making to stand. Mouseheart was quick to shove her back down, though she could see the conflict in his face. He fixed her with a long stare, and she relented, looking away with clenched teeth.

Ratapelt wailing at them to help as he was carried away, never to be seen again, would stay with her till the day she died.


	24. Chapter 22

The elder and the warrior sat there for some time after the sound of the twolegs and Ratapelt's cries had faded. The monster had roared to life in the distance, and then too faded away. Leopardtail dug her claws into the soft soil, shaking. She was horrified, she was sorrowful, she was furious. She was ashamed of herself.

All her life she'd never once let a clanmate down in such a spectacular fashion. She may have been brash and rude and arrogant; more so even in her younger days… but she'd never betrayed a cat like that. They'd let him be taken away and done _nothing_. It was not the way of a warrior.

Eventually, Mouseheart urged her up and onward. They needed to get back to camp and let everyone know what happened. That twolegs were setting traps for them. That Ratapelt was gone… Dead. He had to be, or would be soon… The twolegs had proved themselves hostile already. There was no way their intent wasn't malicious if they were going around trapping cats.

As if the sky matched their grief; it wept. Rain fell down harder than the gentle showers before. Leopardtail's fur was soaked, yet suddenly she didn't feel the cold as much anymore. After doubling back to ensure Ratapelt really was gone with the monster, they melted into the treeline to keep a bit more dry as they made their way home.

A tense, uncomfortable silence hung over the pair as they walked, stewing. Who knew what was on the little runt's mind, but Leopardtail had her own swirling thoughts. Starclan, what was she going to tell them? Oakfur? Would he even understand his son was gone? His mental capacity was getting worse by the day. The elder fretted her peer would be pushed over the edge by this loss… Blackbird… she'd get hit with the news of her former apprentice after going through all that. Thunderstream and Redblaze had lost their brother. Windpaw had lost her mentor... Who would take her on now? The more Leopardtail thought about it, the more she realized what the loss of the quiet warrior meant. Every time, there was many in the clan who lost someone close, through blood or personal connection… Death was part of life, especially in the clans, yet at the same time every life meant _something_. She remembered him as a kitten; always watching in the background with that starkly bright red pelt of his; splashed in snowy white. She remembered commenting on it a few times with bemusement, the way he sat there all serious. A little elder, they used to call him. He learned fast, if she recalled. Less energetic than one sister, less gruff than the other, but smart and quick on his feet. The memory of the litter, small and chubby, seemed so fresh suddenly.

The weariness of being old and watching cats younger die before you seemed heavy on her shoulders in that moment. She shouldn't have to see cats she'd watched grow go before her. At least, not like that. They were _warriors_, but how could they fight something like twolegs? She cursed loudly, slashing out at an offending bush as it brushed her shoulder while she passed. Damn it all. More and more lately, it seemed like Starclan really wasn't on their side anymore.

Was the lack of the white heron's blessing really a sign? Leopardtail sighed. She wasn't supposed to be fretting about Starclan and superstition… Not her general thing. She really was too old for this shit. After today, feeling older.

Mouseheart's voice broke her from her thoughts. He'd frozen ahead of her, ears pricked. "Leopardtail!" The harsh whisper was one that was no louder than enough to catch her attention. "Do you hear that?"

"Hear what?" The elder grumbled back, almost listlessly as she padded up to the small warrior's side. "I can't hear jack shit. Just rain."

"Shhh!" Mouseheart actually hushing her like that took her aback and really caught her attention. His eyes were wide with a fearful focus, ears angling in different directions as he tried to pick up whatever sound. "I think I hear a fight."

Leopardtail took a few more steps forward then, grumpy, sullen expression suddenly sharpening into intense focus as she strained her senses. She couldn't hear it, but at the same time… She believed Mouseheart. He was a timid creature, but no liar, and his detection skills were second to none. The elder cursed her age, turning to the warrior. "Camp?" She questioned, her voice dropping to a low rasp. He nodded, and the spotted tabby swore again. Could they not catch a break? A failure that led to their deputy being injured, Ratapelt, and now this?!

She kept moving towards camp, but Mousheart moved ahead of her, blocking her path. "What?!" She hissed.

"I was assigned to protect you. We should stay away till the fighting is over!"

"Are you kidding me?" Leopardtail spat, baring her teeth and causing the little warrior to shrink slightly. "_Coward_; you'd hide while your clan bleeds?!"

"This isn't about me!" He insisted, though his voice was less strong and now shaking a little. The elder snorted in disgust. Timidity was one thing. Cowardice was another! Oh, she was going to have _words_ with Bogstar about this! The little wretch should be demoted to an apprentice for a while! It was no way for a warrior to act! She shoved by him, but he got in her way again. "Come on Leopardtail, think for a second! What are you going to do?"

"Whatever I can to protect my clan. You should understand that by now little mouse." Her tone was not kind, and the warrior looked a little hurt, but he did not back down.

"So, you will charge in and get killed then?" He replied, quietly. "Leopardtail, you are an _elder_… if you go there and try and fight… I will go if you don't want me to watch over you, but _you_ _need to_ _stay away_."

She hissed wordlessly as she whipped around to pace like a chained dog, understanding his logic but not wanting to accept it. For a cat who had been fully committed as a warrior; who enjoyed being a warrior her whole life, who's mind was still fully as it was in her prime… her body wasn't keeping up with that anymore. She knew it. Leopardtail had aged well, but she was still sore in the morning. Her hearing wasn't as good anymore. She was weaker.

She knew but she couldn't accept that she had to go and hide. "I'll… not fight." The cat growled, narrowing her eyes on Mouseheart. "But if things are really going south… we need all the bodies we can get to move Goosedown and her kits… Oakfur too." The warriors would be busy fighting. She was tired and aching a little between the cold rain and the walk, but she could pick up a kit and get it to safety just fine. Absolutely.

Mouseheart still didn't look happy about it, but it seemed he realized he wasn't going to totally win this one. He wasn't stubborn enough to try really. He glanced over his shoulder. The time pressure was also a factor. "Ugh!" He flicked his tail back and forth in frustration. "Fine! Do what you want, just… don't get yourself killed, _please_? The clan still needs you, and I'd rather not lose anyone else today." He turned on his heel and ran, leaving her to follow at her own pace.

Leopardtail snorted before following at a slower lope. Well, at least he wasn't chickening out of the fight after all… She'd apologize later. Her ears perked as she finally picked up the sounds of the fight when the top of the great willow that marked their camp came into sight above the treeline. It was a cacophony of screeching and snarling and howling, muted only somewhat by the rain falling down from a dark sky. It sounded bad. She frowned, focusing as she moved to head around and enter through the back way of camp…

She'd apologize later… assuming they were all alive by then.


	25. Chapter 23

_**Earlier….**_

Flowerdust had shrieked and pleaded and done everything she could to change Icestar's mind. Rookpaw could still hear her distressed voice ringing in her ears. "_They're too young for a battle like this, Icestar __**please**__!_" The young cat shook her head, driving the sound away. Other cats had agreed with her, even Thickstripe, to her surprise. "_Silverpaw has made excellent progress in a short time, but she's not ready for this_." In the end though, it hadn't mattered. Icestar and Sorrelfur would not bend. Icestar had his reasons, and he was leader. They could not question him. It was in the code. Windheart had been told to lead his mate away, but she had refused to be coddled by him, and had spat in his face. Even slapped him across the cheek with a paw, screeching something about "not this time." They fought now and then, but never like that… Rookpaw had been shocked and horrified.

Icestar had Flowerdust confined to the medicine cat den. She wasn't going on the raid anyway. Rookpaw hadn't eaten when they'd been told to go prepare. She sat outside the apprentice's den, staring down at the slightly trampled black feather Rowanfall had left that was still there from the morning. Her mind was on overdrive. Why? What were they going to do? What was going to happen? She wanted to run. Why? She could just go to Rowanfall. _Why? _With hard, desperate stare, she eyed the back entrance to camp, barely noticing the light rain drizzling down and wetting her fur.

"Rookpaw." Cavepaw's voice and gentle poke with a paw in her side had the black she-cat jump violently, for she was so within her head. He chuckled very softly, coming to sit beside her. For a while he said nothing, just lay his tail around her. He was good at noticing when she was upset and just quietly comforting her like this, but this time, he couldn't help sooth her worries. They were so many and so huge…

He seemed to notice that the tenseness did not leave her, and so blue eyes turned to search her face. "You're thinking of running." It was a statement, not a question, spoken very quietly so no cat could overhear.

He was always perceptive. There was no point lying. "What are we going to _do_, Cavepaw? We're not ready for this! We've been apprentices for, what, a moon? Less? I don't even remember anymore." She tucked her nose into his chest fur, taking comfort from the warmth and the sound of his heartbeat. It was steady, but the slight speed to the rhythm told Rookpaw he was more frightened than he was letting on. Cavepaw never seemed afraid or even angry on the outside. He was always calm; the mediator in the group of their siblings. But, he had to still feel things too…

"I don't know why Icestar has decided to bring us." He admitted, and when Rookpaw looked up his face held a confused, almost torn expression. It seemed hard for him. Growing up, he'd always been the one to know what to do, what the adults were thinking. And like most of them, he admired their leader. "But he must have a good reason. He must have faith in us for some purpose. Maybe he'll tell us more when we leave?" The pointed apprentice looked over his shoulder. Some of the warriors were gathering with Sorrelfur at the center. It must soon be time to leave.

The time crunch made Rookpaw's desire to run; the burning twitch in her paws, even stronger. Seeming to sense this, Cavepaw's tail lifted to brush against her legs, as if to gently hold her back. "I know you're scared, but if you run now, you'll get in big trouble… It'll be traitorous." Traitorous was an odd choice of word… did… did he know something about Rowanfall? His voice held no accusation at least, so Rookpaw said nothing; not wanting to accidentally give anything away. "I don't know what's been going on with you lately, Rookpaw, but I know things have been hard for you, and there's more going on that I could understand…" Blue eyes stared into orange, searching, thoughtful. "All I want is for you to know that we're here for you. Here to listen and count on… Me and the others. Stuff you can't tell the adults, even mum or dad." He narrowed his eyes as a booming Silverpaw shout sounded out behind them at that moment. Something petty with Applepaw, no doubt. "Well, me, at least." He huffed with a little shake of his head.

Rookpaw tucked her head back under his chin, and he purred reassuringly. "Thanks, Cavepaw." Her voice was muffled against his creamy fur, but if it wasn't it would be trembling with emotion. Should she be telling them about everything that was happening after all? That Icestar was cruel; that she could see the past in her sleep; that she was afraid they weren't really kin? She didn't know how much longer she could take keeping it all a secret. The apprentice pulled back, ready to confess _something_, _anything_, when Icestar's yowl sent ice into her veins and snapped her mouth shut.

It was time.

Cavepaw licked her ears. "We'll talk when we get home, okay?" His voice held every confidence that they'd all be home later too. He got to his paws and beckoned with his tail. Silverpaw and Applepaw moved ahead before them. Rookpaw followed on numb paws.

Windheart met his kits at the edge of the raiding party. "Are you all ready?" His voice was strong and serious as ever, but there was something awkward about his demeanour. His fur was still off kilter on his face where Flowerdust had struck him. Silverpaw's nod was confident, Applepaw flicked his ear, almost seeming bored. Cavepaw seemed guarded; his nod was short. Rookpaw cast her eyes downward, which her father (?) must have caught, for he sent her a reassuring look. "Just do what Icestar and the warriors tell you, and…" The tom glanced towards the medicine cat den, where his mate had been sent. She was not visible; only Venompaw sat in the entrance, watching the war party gather. His expression was sour.

Windheart shook his head a little as he turned away and back to his brood. Rookpaw wondered what was going through his mind, for his blue eyes were appeared clouded with many thoughts. "Look…" His voice dropped to a quieter tone. "Just… if things are going poorly; if you think yourselves in danger… run. Run back to camp and don't stop."

"What!?" Silverpaw exclaimed, aghast. She puffed her chest out. "I'm no coward like Rookpaw or Applepaw, I ain't gonna run!"

"Shh." Windheart hushed her softly, glancing to see if anyone had noticed the outburst. It seemed like nobody was paying them much mind. Silverpaw was generally ignored when she started yelling at this point. They'd all learned. "Listen to me. Keep yourselves safe, okay? You will honour your duty by follow Icestar's command to attend, but nobody will judge apprentices your age if you run to stay alive when things go south…" He took a sharp breath, as if steeling himself. "And if they do… I'll tell them it was my idea… Promise me, for your mother's heart if nothing else…"

This seemed to even sway Silverpaw, if the most reluctantly. The four apprentices nodded their heads, and Rookpaw started to feel some relief in her worries. Her clanmates would still be putting themselves at great risk, and that upset her, but herself and her siblings were being given an out. Cavepaw cast her a glance, a slight upturn to his lips. See, it would work out okay.

Icestar's second yowl told them it was time to leave. The large patrol moved together as a unit out of the camp entrance, with the younger apprentices bringing up the rear. Rookpaw took a deep breath as she glanced in the direction of the trail she'd take to meet Rowanfall as they passed by it. He'd just have to wait a little longer. She looked ahead, eyes focusing on Cavepaw's tail as he moved just ahead of her, repeating a positive mantra over and over in her thoughts as if trying to will it to life.

It would be okay. Gorseclan would win. They would be okay.


	26. Chapter 24

Rookpaw's senses were on high alert as they crossed over the border and was having to consciously work at keeping her fur down. Cavepaw moved beside her, so close their pelts touched. He kept his eyes ahead, but his presence was comforting.

The quiet murmuring among the large war party had silenced, and tension was high among the creeping bodies around her. The Marshclan camp wasn't all that far from the border. It wouldn't be long now. Icestar was at the front; she could see his broad white shoulders over the, heads of the others. He was leading them straight for the camp, with no attempt at coming in from another direction to avoid being noticed. He had the numbers. He was going head on and pushed through the tall grass at the edge of the territory like he owned the place already.

Sorrelfur was closer to the back, watching over the party and keeping an eye on their flank. Rookpaw wondered if the deputy was there to keep a closer eye on the apprentices. Her own was among them; Honeypaw moved close to her mentor, glancing at her now and then as if checking she was doing the right thing; she kept adjusting her stance to try get it to match Sorrelfur's.

To Rookpaw, seconds seemed to stretch for a lifetime, minutes to eternity. She focused on the rhythmic beat of her own heart, the sound of the increasingly steady rain… until…

A yowling screech broke out ahead. An alarm call. There, on a rise ahead; an alarmed sentry with the Marshclan camp's great tree behind. Rookpaw only got a glimpse of the yellowish-tabby before they vanished behind the embankment. They'd seen them. Not that the large group of cats was hard to miss.

Hornetclaw made to rush after them, teeth already bared, but his brother stopped him. "Don't bother." Icestar growled; Rookpaw just able to hear his low voice from the back of the group. "We don't need to be a surprise."

It was then that the leader turned to his clan. "Over the other side of this bank is the enemy's camp. Our objective is total victory." He lowered his head, eyes burning. Beside Rookpaw, Silverpaw lashed her tail with a gleeful and vicious purr. "You are the finest warriors in this valley. Show them your strength! Show them that their foolish rejection of our peace was a mistake and let no cat escape; especially any kits… they may yet be salvageable for Starclan's cause." The big tom turned; droplets of water flying from his fur with the strength of the motion and drew his claws. "Kill only if you must." He added, like an afterthought.

Rookpaw felt a thrill of foreboding in the beat of silence. In the dark sky and the rain that washed away scent and softened the already boggy ground. In the heavy breaths of her clanmates around her. In the look of furious determination in Icestar's orange gaze.

"Gorseclan, attack!" His roar was like the thunder that yet seemed to threaten in the hovering storm. Suddenly the still patrol burst to life, following Icestar up and over the bank like a wave that Rookpaw and her siblings were swept along for the ride in. Her body moved alongside her siblings almost on its own. She didn't want to run towards the fight, and yet, she did.

As she reached the top, Rookpaw saw the great weeping willow tree in all its glory not far away; huge sweeping branches kissing the ground and hiding the camp beneath totally from sight. Their warriors were already crossing the distance of clear ground towards the tree at speed, jumping over or around puddles and muddy patches. Icestar was seconds away from where a first line of defence was waiting outside to meet them. Marshclan had those precious moments to prepare themselves; they'd sent warriors to try and stop them from getting in.

Icestar smashed into the nearest cat like a flooding river, just about flattening the dark lilac tabby into the mud. The few warriors weren't going to be enough, Rookpaw thought as she slid awkwardly down the other side of the bank with Cavepaw and Applepaw at her each side. Silverpaw had charged ahead. Already, all the Marshclan warriors outside the camp were engaged, and other Gorseclan cats were free to pass by them, yet something was stopping them from slipping through the willow branches.

When Rookpaw and her siblings arrived at the edge, they saw why. Brambles and gorse and other prickly, dry fortification had been put up all around the camp; just inside and hidden by the willow leaves. Poor Mottledtail had charged right into it as one of the first to break through the line. She had been met with a painful surprise and was sitting rubbing her face, trying to pull thorns out of herself.

Hornetclaw had barely spared her a glance; and was now working with a couple of others to try pull the wall of thorns down or push them aside. From behind the thicket, Marshclan cats spat and lashed out to try push them back, but they weren't going to be deterred. Hornetclaw suddenly jerked his head back to avoid a reaching set of claws; snapping at the paw as it retreated before turning to Rookpaw and the others with a snarl. "Oi, apprentices, instead of sitting there like stunned mullets, help us get through!"

"Yessir!" Cavepaw was the first to respond with a jolt to his mentor's demand, moving quickly to start pulling down the Marshclan defences with careful and methodical paws. Rookpaw moved to help him, but Applepaw lingered back; seeming to hope nobody would notice him just standing there. Rookpaw resisted the urge to roll her eyes and just focused on the task. He probably didn't want to risk his paws getting a prickle. She was just thankful to have something to do that wasn't fighting. Right now, they were safe as long as they kept out of the way of swiping claws from inside the camp.

There was a howl as someone further down broke through; Gorseclan cats poured into the camp through the gap. Rookpaw saw Silverpaw's tabby pelt dart in through the curtain of willow alongside the distinct fur of Dappledshade and Sorrelfur's lithe form. "Stop! Don't worry about that now!" Hornetclaw ordered to Rookpaw and Cavepaw, jerking his head for them to follow as he started to head towards the break. "Get in there!" He was quick to disappear inside; the sounds of fighting rising up from within the tree's canopy.

The Marshclan warriors who'd been guarding outside were desperately trying to break off from the Gorseclan cats keeping them occupied to go in and help, but they weren't being allowed. Every time one got around one warrior, another appeared to stop them. Rookpaw spied Honeypaw launch onto a Marshclan cats back as he made a break for it.

She swallowed nervously, hesitating. She was sure her fur was on end. Cavepaw looked back and rested his tail to her nose with a little smile, then nodding to Applepaw, who was looking similarly reluctant. "Come on. We'll stick together… Remember what dad said."

Applepaw's ears were flat. "Let's just find Silverpaw and get this over with." He hissed lowly as he stalked forward, curling his lip with mild disgust at a torn clump of fur nearby from one of the combating parties.

The two toms at her side, Rookpaw slunk through the broken gap in Marshclan's thorny wall. Under the canopy, the rain was barely reaching; only a few drops made it through the leaves and branches to hit the ground, yet there was still a peaty wetness under Rookpaw's feet.

Inside the camp was chaos as Gorseclan cats tried to tear the camp apart, and Marshclan ones tried to defend their home. A screeching, hissing throng of activity. Icestar's huge white pelt was one of the first things that caught her eye; just as he slapped what looked like a foolishly brave apprentice aside as they tried to leap at him. His eyes were fixed on another cat ahead of him.

"Rookpaw." Cavepaw was calling to her, but she was thoroughly distracted. Hyper-focused on what the leader was about to do. Though she did not notice, Applepaw was gone from her other side.

A much, much smaller white tom seemed to be waiting for Icestar at the base of the huge willow's trunk; standing up on a protruding root to gain height. "Bogstar." The Gorseclan leader purred, rich and almost pleasant as he padded away from where the apprentice sat, shaking their bleeding head and dazed. "With no gatherings, I haven't been able to offer my congratulations." He dipped his head, a motion that seemed to ooze sarcasm to Rookpaw. When Icestar looked up again, his eyes were fixed on the Marshclan leader. "Unfortunate that you've made the same mistake as your predecessor. I didn't want it to come to this, you know."

Bogstar said nothing, at first. His gaze was cold as it inspected Icestar from his perch. "Save your utter horseshit for your addled clan, Icestar. I've no interest in your false pleasantries after what you've done." The little tom growled finally, lifting his chin defiantly. It was then Rookpaw noticed a loop of vine hanging from his neck; two long white feathers hanging from it. How odd.

"My… I thought you were polite… To the point then." Icestar returned, the pleasant tone quickly turning to the coolly angry one Rookpaw was more familiar with. "I've come to claim your clan in Starclan's name, Bogstar. Surrender, or face Gustclan's fate."

"Over my dead body."

"I was hoping you would say that."

Just as the two white toms launched at each other, Rookpaw's field of vision was suddenly blocked out by a blur of fur. Something had just slammed into her while she wasn't paying attention, and the force knocked the air out of her lungs. She thought she heard Cavepaw calling out for her, but she wasn't sure. Looking up, the young apprentice was face to face with a snarling Marshclan cat. Rookpaw tried to use her back legs to kick the bigger cat off, as Icestar had tried to teach her, but the Marshclan cat scoffed, shifting to using her own to pin Rookpaw's down too. Her claws dug in a little harder.

"Stupid apprentice!" The dark tabby's silver muzzle was scrunched up to reveal broken and yellowing teeth. Their fur was ragged and bore old scars. An older warrior, if not an elder? "Gorseclan really has gotten thick in the skull, eh? Who stands around gaping in the middle of a fight?!" She snapped at her with a harsh, rasping voice that held authority, a few drops of furious spittle hitting Rookpaw's face. "Good bite will teach you right and proper! Go scrambling home where you fucking belong and stay outta our territory!" The leer in her eyes suddenly widened a bit, and her angry rant faltered as she took in the terrified little black she-cat she had pinned under her claws. "How old are you, exactly?"

"I'm- I-" Rookpaw stammered, shrinking under the fierce yellow eyes of the old cat, hyper-aware of the prick of deadly claws near her vulnerable underbelly.

"Speak up brat!"

"I'm nearly seven moons!" Rookpaw squeaked like the trapped mouse she felt like. The scary she-cat blinked, then let out a disgusted snort.

"Seven bloody moons! What the fuck are you doing at a fight like this?!" She rolled her eyes, and muttered something under her breath, before glaring back to Rookpaw. "Go home before you get killed!" With that dismissive word, the old cat loosened her grip, only to practically bat Rookpaw away with a clawed blow that left bleeding marks behind in her shoulder.

Wincing at the sting, by the time the young cat looked up and shook herself, the dark tabby had vanished from line of sight; presumably to look for a worthier opponent.

Rookpaw herself tried to seek out her siblings. She wanted to go home, like the old cat said. Like Windheart said they could. She wanted to run away with them. She hated this. She hated the pain of the bloody wound she now bore. She hated the terror she had just felt thinking that stinking old cat was going to kill her. She hated the sounds all around her; the violent energy in the air; the smell of blood on the ground and fear in the air.

She started padding forward to look for her kin but had to quickly leap aside as Mistheart went tumbling by in a tangle with a big Marshclan warrior. Fur was flying and blood spraying from the pair. Mistheart's ear was torn open as they passed by her; the blood splattered against her paws. Her orange eyes followed after them, wide.

Rookpaw shook herself out of the trance of shock. She needed to move, dammit! The old Marshclan cat was right. She couldn't just stand here like a startled rabbit!

"Rookpaw!" A voice called out to her. It was her father, weaving his way towards her through those fighting. His cream-pointed fur; just a shade different from Cavepaw's, was tussled like he had been fighting, but she couldn't see any bleeding wounds on him. Windheart did have a stain of it on his muzzle though; the enemies. "Come with me; help me look for the kits. The nursery was empty but a nest still warm and thick with kit-scent. There must be at least one litter hidden somewhere… they didn't have time to run away with them."

Rookpaw didn't want to go look for the kits. She wanted to leave them alone. She wanted to go home… "I lost Cavepaw and the others…" She looked around, worried. The circular nature of the camp around the willow tree meant that she couldn't see the other side of it. Were they over there? She couldn't spy them among the cats here…

"They'll be okay Rookpaw." Windheart said with a confidence that didn't quite reach his blue eyes. He was worried too; he just didn't want to say so. "Stay close with me. We'll look for them at the kits at the same time, alright?" He just wanted to keep an eye on her. Rookpaw took a deep breath.

"Okay."


	27. Chapter 25

After leaving the stupid little Gorseclan apprentice, Leopardtail had moved off with purpose, trying to avoid getting into a _real _fight. All she could do was hiss and spit and throw the odd swat to keep the enemy at bay as she moved through the chaos of the camp. It was taking a lot of fighting against instincts honed from years of service as a warrior, but she'd never live down breaking a promise to Mouseheart.

Assuming any of them lived through this at all. The Gorseclan sons-of-bitches had brought quite a few cats. Cowards. More functional warriors than they could really hold off. The experienced cat could see the writing on the wall.

She went in search of her fellow elders. The nursery was already empty, which could be a good or bad thing. She didn't want to dwell on the latter option. For now, she'd worry about what she _could _do.

Approaching the elder's den, Leopardtail found her son bailed up in the entrance, blocking the way from a brutish Gorseclan tom. Presumably, Oakfur was inside. He was much too frail to be involved in all this. She worried for her son too; his bad heart might not cope with all this stress, but at least he was otherwise still physically capable. He'd still be a warrior, if it weren't for his condition…

Barkfoot hissed; lashing out at the warrior. Leopardtail finally recognized who it was as she got closer. Hornetclaw. Stupid oaf. He didn't even seem to notice her approaching as he tried to latch onto Barkfoot and draw him out. Had he learned nothing since becoming a warrior? He was still as dumb as his apprentice days! Never lose your 360-degree awareness in the battlefield! Was this a lesson they just didn't teach in Gorseclan? Well, they'd always been plagued with their own brand of overconfidence… The legend of their undefeated founding leader always seemed to go to their heads. Or perhaps it was just in their blood.

The elder she-cat latched onto Hornetclaw's tail with a hard bite, letting go quickly as he howled in pain, surprise and fury, spinning about to go for her instead. "Mother!" Barkfoot exclaimed, sounding both shocked and worried.

"Don't worry about me!" She yowled, making sure to keep well away from Hornetclaw's undoubtedly sharp namesakes. "Get Oakfur out of camp and hide!" At least he was slow, but she couldn't keep away from him for long. She was already tired from just getting back to camp, and with her age…

"Stand still old hag!" Growled Hornetclaw; annoyed he couldn't land a blow on her. Her eyes flicked to over his right flank.

"Sure." She replied pleasantly, pausing as Thunderstream smashed into the tom. Leopardtail grinned as she watched the medicine cat bowl Hornetclaw into next week. Big as he was, Thunderstream was bigger. And she'd been a warrior before she'd taken to healing. She also knew exactly what spots were the most painful to aim for.

Part of her was wondering if the medicine cat should be helping with wounded and not fighting, but they likely needed all the able bodies they had at this point. She turned the elder's den, where Barkfoot was gently leading Oakfur out of the entrance. The old tom looked scared, and confused, muttering to himself as Barkfoot nudged him. "Get him out through the emergency exit." Thankfully, there was one right next to the elder's den for this exact scenario.

"Mother…" Barkfoot's tone was something between warning and pleading as he looked back at her at the mouth of the entrance; hidden by branches. He knew she had no intention of coming with them.

She fixed him with a sharp look, but it softened slightly as she knew his word was only born out of concern. "Someone with a brain has got to keep an eye on things here… I need to find Goosedown and the kits. All the warriors are too busy fighting."

"I can't change your mind, can I?" Her grown son sighed, his ears drooping slightly. It wasn't a question. He looked back up at her. "Fine, but just… be careful, please. I want you to keep hassling me till Starclan calls you home through sheer old age." He quickly moved to rub his head along her neck, then pulled back before she'd had much chance to saviour the gesture of familiar love.

She only lingered long enough to watch her son and Oakfur vanish out of camp. She was acutely aware she couldn't just stand here for long, like that stupid Gorseclan furball. Thunderstream and Hornetclaw continued to skirmish close by. "Be safe." She murmured as she turned away from where they'd slipped out the camp wall, expression setting. Time to get back to work.

Leopardtail didn't know where the energy and strength she had was coming from at this point. Sheer adrenaline, she supposed. If she didn't get torn apart soon, she was probably going to drop dead from the damn strain… Purposed powered her paws to lope around the rim of the camp. Fortunately, it seemed like most cats were occupied in battle already. There was nobody to notice and go for her. Her clan was bloody and fighting for their lives. She ached to help them, but knew she'd just get in the way.

It was hard to find a particular smell with all the fear, blood and churned up swamp-earth filling the air with it's strong scent. Eventually though, she caught a whiff of Goosedown. Her nose worked harder… And Blackbird? Part of her wanted to scold her daughter for not staying hiding away after the injury she'd just suffered, but at the same time it was probably wise. A cat with strong enough legs that couldn't fight was well suited to take the kits. Presumably the two she-cats were carrying them away to safety. The scent was fairly fresh, but then, though it seemed like it had been going on forever, the raid had only been happening for a mere beat of time, really. Leopardtail scanned around, unable to see them. Perhaps they'd already gotten out of camp?

A particularly strong yowl caught her attention towards the base of the great willow tree. Among the huge, knotted roots that jutted up from the ground, Icestar and Bogstar were fighting fiercely. Bogstar seemed okay enough, little runt… He'd lost his heron feathers though. Presumably Icestar had slashed through the vine hanging them about his neck. Luckily, the little white tom's actual throat seemed unharmed. He was wounded, to be sure, but so far, neither cat seemed to have lost a life… As far as she could tell though, the yowl had not come from them.

Then she spied it. Another cat far too young to have any business being here; this one large and silver tabby in colour. The elder hissed to herself as she saw the young cat. Fucking Gorseclan, what were they thinking?! At least this one looked strong and wasn't spacing out like the last one.

Although… Her eyes narrowed. It seemed like this brat had the opposite problem. One oh-too-common in Gorseclan blood. She looked to one side as she saw the cat launch towards Bogstar, trying to help her leader. Single-minded. Dangerous overconfidence. "Stupid brat…" Lack of observational skills seemed to be a common factor in Gorseclan cats…

Clawstrike had seen the apprentice's intentions. He was nearby. He threw his opponent off him; the enemy warrior smacking hard against a tree root; dazing them. Clawstrike raced forward. He was injured, his torn ear even more so now; blood splattered the side and dripped down the side of his face. His expression was twisted in rage.

Leopardtail could almost swear she saw what happened next in slow motion. Perhaps it was so many moons of battle experience; it simply foresaw what would happen next. It was too late to stop it though… And besides, this is war.

Clawstrike rushed the other cat; the apprentice who didn't seem to see him coming. Leopardtail could practically predict exactly where they would collide, only a couple of catlengths from where the two leaders battled. She could also see murder in the Marshclan warrior's eyes. He was always rash, too rough… And now he had pure anger to fuel him. It seemed inevitable, really. The tragedy was the youth of his victim.

"Silverpaw!" The yowl broke the air from out of sight.

In the time it took her to blink, another cat was there. In between Clawstrike and the silver tabby.

She almost looked away as yet another young apprentice took the blow in their place; shoving the tabby roughly aside.

Clawstrike's aim was true; his bite sunk deep into the spine of the other apprentice; claws raking down creamy fur. He grappled his target like a cat might catch large prey. Time seemed to hang; crimson spraying upward; three bodies in violent motion.

And then they all came crashing down.


	28. Chapter 26

Leopardtail heard the horrified wail; one strong enough to bring some of the fighting cats nearby to a brief standstill, and as she turned her head, she took note of an until-now unnoticed third young apprentice. The ticked tabby had fallen to a shocked crouch, claws digging into the mud as he cried out.

Okay. That was enough. Her own sense be damned. She just had too much of a soft spot for the young. The old she-cat started to move towards where Clawstrike had not yet given up his attack; where it seemed like the colourpoint apprentice under his claws couldn't fight back, if they were even still alive; where the silver tabby was gaping from where she'd been shoved to the ground, horrified as she processed what has just happened.

The silver she-cat blinked, and then made to launch forward at Clawstrike. An adult colourpoint tom came out of nowhere and grabbed her, holding her back. "Let me go!" The apprentice raged. "I'll kill him! I'll *kill him*!"

"Silverpaw!" The Gorseclan warrior hissed in her ear, though the elder could see anger and grief of his own in his face. "Use your senses!" Leopardtail realized who it was then. Not a warrior she knew well, but she knew the name. Windheart, wasn't it? She glanced at the younger pointed cat. That one had to be his kit… which meant likely the rest were his too. The black one she'd told off earlier had appeared now too and was trying to get around her father to help the one still under Clawstrike's grasp. Starclan. What a mess… She grit her teeth and drew nearer.

"Alright, that's enough!" Leopardtail barked before she seized her fellow Marshclan cat by the scruff like he was a misbehaving kit, and gave the strongest tug she could to haul him off the smaller cat.

"What are you doing, old bat?!" Clawstrike snarled as he rounded on her; his muzzle stained with the apprentice's blood. She slapped him across the face.

"Getting an idiotic code-breaker under control! I knew you were stupid, but trying to kill cats barely out of kithood? This is a new low for you!" She snarled back at him just as fiercely. "Go take your anger out on something that can fight back!"

She could see the gears turning behind Clawstrike's eyes. He was in quite a state; fur on end, breathing ragged with rage and bloodthirst, but he'd always been a touch afraid of her. And assuming they all survived this, he'd have a good bloody reason to be! She was going to have Bogstar take his warrior privileges away for sure, at the very least!

Like the immature brat he was, the warrior simply turned with a hiss and launched at the nearest Gorseclan cat, who had seemingly paused to take in what was happening. Leopardtail rolled her eyes, turning her attention back to the sad scene before her.

The black one was crouched over the bleeding tom, sniffling and begging quietly to him. "Cavepaw, Cavepaw…" The youngster mewed softly over and over. He wasn't moving. Leopardtail clicked her tongue. She was no medicine cat, but it looked bad.

"Look." She said, finally, lifting her eyes to Windheart, who was still trying to control Silverpaw who was shrieking bloody murder. "You can take my word for whatever you like, Gorseclan warrior, but I will make sure none of my clan mess with you while you get him out of here." She snorted, observing the chaos around them. "Your clan may not deserve that courtesy, but _they _do." She glanced at the apprentices. The ticked tabby had crawled over now, joining his siblings' side mutely.

The warrior seemed taken aback, at first, he inclined his head slightly; mouth full of Silverpaw's scruff. She just nodded back and turned away to keep an eye on things, trying to keep her ears from hearing the private mutterings of the family to each other; Windheart's soft instructions. That sort of thing was between them now. It wasn't her place. She was already doing far more than she should; some of her clan would berate her for it, to be sure.

But in this, the young were innocent.

Leopardtail's eyes found Icestar, just as he knocked Bogstar almost off his paws with a heavy blow. They had become much more beat up in the time since she'd stopped paying attention to them, and they were so hyper-focused on their fight, it seemed like they hadn't even noticed what was happening only a short distance away, nor anything around them in general. Bogstar was fighting for his life, and the lives of his clanmates. Icestar was fighting for his warped ideals.

Leopardtail wished she could help Bogstar; who looked so vulnerable next to the hulking form of Icestar, but she knew that she'd just get in his way. And that he was stronger than he looked. After all, few cats in the valley could go toe-to-toe with the Gorseclan leader for this long.

As she heard the shuffling of movement behind her, signalling that Cavepaw was being moved, a flash of movement caught her attention to up above the fight between the two leaders beneath the great willow tree. Orange eyes flicked upwards, and that was when she realized what it was. Sorrelfur, the Gorseclan deputy, was climbing the trunk. She could just make her out as she heaved herself up the side of the trunk; just around from where the leaders fought.

What was she doing? At first, Leopardtail was puzzled. And a touch amused; climbing looked so laborious when Gorseclan cats did it. They didn't have many large trees on their territory; they weren't very good at it. It seemed like Sorrelfur was trying to get up into the hollow that held the leader's den… but why? It was empty…

The elder's eyes went wide as she saw Blackbird's head poke out of the entrance to the den and out onto the large branch at its mouth, looking down with a growl at Sorrelfur as she drew nearer. If her daughter were there, then… Goosedown and the kits must be hiding inside the den! The elder cursed, taking a step forward subconsciously as she stared at the scene. Sorrelfur must have been tracking them down; following their scent as Leopardtail herself had been till she got distracted…

The two deputy she-cats stared each other down stiffly. Leopardtail could see mouths moving, but over the din in camp, could not make out the words at her distance. Judging by their expressions and body language, they were not kind words. Her eyes flicked down to the fighting white-furred leaders, then back up to their standing off deputies.

She found herself pacing, unsure what to do. She hadn't even looked back to see if the little family had gotten their injured member away safely, she was so caught up by the events. She feared for her daughter, who was already injured. Leopardtail understood Sorrelfur as well as any cat outside her clan; they'd met on the battlefield several times back in the day. She was a formidable creature of her own accord; likely it was the reason she and Icestar had paired up in the first place.

Blackbird lashed out with claws, trying to keep Sorrelfur from getting up onto the branch, to which the other she-cat snapped with teeth at the paws, trying to latch on. She didn't fear getting a scratch or two, by the looks of it. Worried, Leopardtail found herself moving around, closer, trying to get a better look while avoiding Icestar and Bogstar's battle.

She found herself face to face with a young tortoiseshell warrior from Gorseclan. "Get out of my way, sweet thing." She snarled at the elegant she-cat who was staring her down with cool blue eyes, her body position ready to fight. "I'm busy, and I don't want to scar that pretty face of yours."

The tortoiseshell laughed. "Fiery old thing, aren't you?" She retorted, eyes narrowing with a sort of judgement to them. "Given that and your looks, you must be Leopardtail; I've heard about you from your warrior days."

"I'll take that as a compliment." The elder replied, lifting her head a little with pride. "If you've heard my stories, then you should know to back off when I'm pissed off." She lowered her ears, cautious. Something about the air this cat gave off… it reminded her of that Sorrelfur. Dangerous.

Yet, it didn't seem like the young she-cat was particularly hostile; prepared to attack, yes, but not absolutely going to either. She chuckled again, tilting her chin upwards. "I'm supposed to eliminate all uncooperative cats… and I know for a fact Icestar would want me to send any elder I came across to a permanent retirement with our ancestors…" Her patchwork tail flicked back and forth slowly. There was some disdain to her voice as she spoke of Icestar.

Leopardtail let out a low huff. She could bluff confidence all day long, but in truth she was physically spent. She wouldn't last five seconds in a fight against a strong young cat right now. She cursed her age as she glared back at the tortoiseshell. "Icestar can go chew the fleas off his balls. I've got too much shit to do to die yet."

"Ha!" The she-cat snorted, throwing her head back, before looking back at Leopardtail. "I like you, old-timer, Marshclan or not. Tell you what… I'm not very happy with our esteemed leader right now myself, so I'll let you go." She glanced over to him as he got his jaw around Bogstar's leg while the smaller time tried to bite down on his neck; throwing him away. Her icy eyes narrowed as she looked at the leader, and Leopardtail got the impression there was a story there. There was a complicated expression on the tortoiseshell's face. "Not that it's out of anything but spite towards him, of course. I don't believe in letting enemies go, generally."

"I can respect that." Leopardtail replied neutrally, still cautious. She wouldn't put it past a Gorseclan cat to lie to her face and wait till her back was turned. Especially not one giving off this particular aura.

What the Gorseclan warrior intended to actually do would remain a mystery though, for at that moment, everything changed.

There was a piercing cry that echoed out across camp; the sound of breaking wood and crackling bark.

And then, a very clear, very audible _snap_.

Just about every head in earshot froze and turned, Leopardtail included. That sound carried with it a thrill of foreboding… She could feel the hair on her spine raising before she even saw what had happened.

Icestar and Bogstar had frozen in their fight. Bark and twigs and a larger part of a branch had fallen down upon them; some smaller particles dusted their white and bloodstained red pelts. Bogstar was looking up, his mouth gaping open; eyes wide. Leopardtail followed his line of sight first by nature. High above on the branch that led to his den, Blackbird half hung over the side, a paw outstretched. She looked shocked too as she stared down.

The elder put two and two together before she even saw what lay below; between the two leaders.

Sorrelfur was slumped awkwardly over a thick tree root; body at an awkward angle. The neck uncomfortably so. Leopardtail almost winced to look at it. Even before she saw the Gorseclan deputies' eyes wide, glassy and staring into the abyss; face twisted into her last surprised and defiant snarl, the experienced cat knew she was dead. She had seen a similar event many years ago; though that had been a reckless Marshclan apprentice instead.

In the struggle in the heights of the willow, something must have caused Sorrelfur to lose her grip. She'd fallen and broken her neck. Dead on impact. A mildly haunting sight to see, she'd admit, though the darker part of Leopardtail felt it was almost too fast and merciful for the cat who'd played a fair role in all the chaos Gorseclan and Icestar had been sowing.

However, the fur on her back couldn't lie flat just yet… Icestar still hadn't reacted.

He was standing, staring at his deputy and mate's body. She lay only a couple of catlengths from him. It seemed like most eyes were on him. The camp was almost silent. From her spot nearby, Leopardtail could see his body trembling.

Anticipating an explosion of rage, the elder lifted her head, steeling herself; ready to throw out an order she was no longer of the authority to give but Starclan damn it she was going to do it by instinct anyway. She expected Icestar to launch with all his force at Bogstar. The clan had to be ready to protect him.

The silence stretched for what seemed like an age; every cat still. Tuataratail stood over a pinned opponent; his paws still on their chest. The Gorseclan cat had made no move to push him off. Both had their heads turned towards the sight, not quite sure if they were believing what they were seeing. Blackbird still had a paw reached out as she draped over the branch; frozen in time reaching to catch Sorrelfur as she fell. Goosedown had poked her head out to see what happened; the gentle queen's face was one of horror, even for the enemy. The apprentices and their father were gone. A small mercy; those young cats had seen enough today.

And then, Icestar moved. Very slowly, very deliberately. He padded forward, and pressed his broad nose into Sorrelfur's side, as if checking she was really dead. A muffled sound escaped him. Was it grief? He then lifted his great head, yellow eyes slits as they looked upon Bogstar, who flinched despite himself.

Every inch of the powerful tom spoke of barely contained _fury_.

"Gorseclan will retreat." Icestar said; enunciating every word clearly. His voice was surprisingly calm.

Bogstar was wary. His head low and ears angled back. "Marshclan will… allow this. You can pass freely to your border." He was an honourable cat; he would keep that word. The loss of a deputy was a deep one. Allowing the enemy to go home safely was the right thing to do, though it set a scorn in Leopardtail's gut all the same. She agreed, but she also didn't like it.

Icestar didn't say anything more; a mere flick of one of his small ears was the only sign Bogstar got that he'd been heard. The Gorseclan leader didn't even beckon any of his shocked cats forward to help him; he hefted Sorrelfur up all on his own. He was surprisingly gentle, for a cat so strong, as he pulled her to be draped over his back.

"There will be hell to pay for this." He muttered, very softly, as he stalked off. "Mark my words." His clan looked among themselves; appearing almost bewildered, as Marshclan cats slowly backed off (some more reluctantly than others) to allow them to leave.

Leopardtail watched them melt through the broken walls around the willows weeping branches, right until the last tail vanished. She finally allowed herself to sigh out a breath she didn't realize she was holding, and then fall onto her haunches.

The elder let out a little raspy laugh; realizing she was shaking. Her body was about to give out on her. They were gone. They'd won. Her clan was bloody and beaten. Some cats looked pretty rough, but as she glanced around camp, she didn't see any bodies. The kits were safe. Her fellow elders had escaped. They'd come off better, by some miracle. Their plan that had been in the works for moons had been enough, thank Starclan.

She flopped to the ground, resting her weary head on her paws as Thunderstream began to move among the clan, Bogstar hovering nervously behind her. She couldn't feel triumphant about it. Ratapelt was gone, and she still had to tell everyone about that… And what about next time? Icestar promised his vengeance, and Leopardtail couldn't imagine that was something he'd bluff about.


	29. Chapter 27

Rookpaw didn't even really remember the trek back to camp; that all too slow, careful procession as they carried Cavepaw and tried not to hurt him any further in doing so. A trail of blood marked the path they took.

She wasn't even sure how long it was, after their mother's horror and grief when they appeared, after Longtail hurriedly had her brother (_her brother_, oh why had she been thinking anything different?) taken into his den, that the rest of the cats who had gone to Marshclan returned.

She did know though, what it meant when she saw the crushed expressions and Sorrelfur lifelessly draped over Icestar's back; her eyes staring up at nothing as she was gently deposited in the centre of camp.

Someone noted that Spiderstreak was missing and had been for some time after saying he was going to guard one of the camp entrances, but nobody seemed to care.

She watched as Icestar just… walked away. Into his den. He still hadn't come out, even now the sun had set. He hadn't said a word. He wasn't even sitting out with his mate to share tongues with her one more time. What cats still had the will to whispered... Rookpaw almost didn't care at all. She sat hunched up with her siblings and parents, waiting…

The apprentice watched listlessly as Dappledshade eventually padded over to Sorrelfur's body, where several cats were sitting with her, including Honeypaw who was grooming her face with soft words, sniffling with tears as she did so. She'd come through the battle relatively unscathed but had lost her mentor in the process. Someone had finally shut Sorrelfur's eyes. Mistheart lingered uncertainly behind his sister with his tail drooping. The she-cat's expression was dark and unreadable as she took in the sight. Rookpaw noticed that she then glanced towards her and her grieving family, and then bared her teeth. Her head jerked up towards the still quiet den mouth, where Icestar had retreated. Long claws dug into the earth at the leader's continued lack of presence.

"I've had enough of this shit." Dappledshade hissed lowly as she took in the sad state of camp, turning away. Mistheart followed her to a secluded corner of the clearing near where the prisoners were sitting mutely outside their "den". Hedgefur joined the two young warriors. They put their heads together, talking too softly to be heard. Rookpaw watched the tom prisoner, the one she'd been told to speak to, angle his ears towards their conversation.

The mild distraction was quickly broken as Longtail poked his head out of his den. Windheart stood so quickly he swayed slightly. "How is he?" The warrior near demanded. Flowerdust was quiet at his side, though her expression was pleading.

"I… well. He's alive. We've stopped the bleeding but…" The medicine cat made a strange noise in his throat as he scanned camp and noticed Sorrelfur's body, his good and sightless eye both going wide. Of course, he didn't even know. He'd been in his den the entire time, and nobody had dared bother him. Venompaw had been moving among the more mildly-injured cats to offer treatments.

"Longtail, please! Cavepaw…" Flowerdust drew his attention back. He shook his head, his face scrunched up as he turned back to her. Sorrelfur was his littermate, wasn't she? He had to be torn between his work and wanting to go grieve her. But Rookpaw didn't care. She just wanted to know about her brother. Her desperate look was added to her mothers, leaning forward towards the tom as if in anticipation.

Longtail swallowed, forcing himself back to the matter at hand. The expression on his face fell away to a certain blankness. "Yes, well." He licked his lips nervously. "I will do what I can, but I am, at this stage, unsure what the damage may be. He lost a lot of blood, and the bite into his back was deep. It may have damaged his spine, his nerves… I don't know if he will have lasting effects or not yet… Assuming he survives, and then there's infection to worry about…" The medicine cat clicked his tongue, back in medical mode for the moment. "He's a strong young cat, but I want you to be prepared. Perhaps consider asking… about his name…That's all."

He was met with silence. Asking about his name? Rookpaw swallowed and looked at her paws; her chest felt so heavy. She realized what the medicine cat meant. Cavepaw might die. If he were to die without a warrior name, Starclan would not accept him… Or so Gorseclan believed. There was a special suffix just for this situation.

Longtail glanced nervously back towards Sorrelfur's vigil. "Um. You may see him, if you'd like; he's as stable as I can get him right now, but he's not conscious…" He dipped his head low. "If you'll excuse me… I have to… Please fetch me if something happens." He took note of the scratches Rookpaw, Windheart and Silverpaw bore. "Get Venompaw to see to those too." Longtail then skittered away with that creeping gait of his to join his sister's vigil.

There was not enough room for all of them to crowd around Cavepaw inside the den. The unspoken question was answered quickly by Windheart. "I'll wait. You go." He said softly to Flowerdust. She said nothing, and simply slipped into the den. Was she still mad at him? Rookpaw didn't know.

"Dad." Silverpaw spoke up, her voice strangely quiet. "Can I go too?" He nodded, and Silverpaw vanished too. Rookpaw didn't know what to make of Silverpaw's behaviour. Did she feel guilty? She should. It was her fault. Cavepaw pushed her out of the way. If she hadn't been so reckless like always-

"I don't want to see him." Applepaw sniffled. He'd been sitting tucked up, with his nose under his paws. He hadn't lifted his head, only shifted large eyes towards his father. "It's horrible. He's not even awake." The elegant tom squeezed his eyes shut again. "What's the point…?"

"It's okay, Applepaw. You can wait out here with me." Windheart touched his nose to his son's head gently. He was being the steady influence in all this. He turned to Rookpaw. "Do you want to go see him? There should be enough room for you too, Rookpaw."

Her immediate thought was a hurried "yes" but then, the more Rookpaw thought about it… Maybe Applepaw had a point. He wasn't awake. She could talk to him, but he wouldn't hear. She was just going to see him hurt some more. And Silverpaw was in there.

"I… I'll go later." Rookpaw said finally, slowly getting to her paws. "I'm gonna go for a walk, I think." She needed to get out of camp. Away from it all. Just for a little while… Running away, as usual. The thought was bitter, but she couldn't stand the atmosphere of camp any longer.

Windheart blinked sadly, offering her an understanding sound in the back of his throat as he gave her head a lick. "Alright, but don't be too long, and be careful. If you see or hear or smell anything out of the ordinary…" Rookpaw realized why he was giving the warning. It may be that Marshclan was in no state to retaliate, but if they informed the other clans of what happened… They may decide to strike Gorseclan now, while they were vulnerable.

That chilling thought settling in her gut, Rookpaw padded away. Past the huddled crowd of cats mourning Sorrelfur. Past the den where Icestar had still not made an appearance. Past senior warriors and the elders expressing their concerns about that, the loss and who would be made deputy now. Past the hushed whispers of the small group around Dappledshade; now joined by Venompaw. Oddly, the two Gustclan cats were also sitting with them; although a little apart from the others. They seemed to be a part of the discussion at least. Rookpaw would normally be intrigued by this, but she was so numb she barely noticed. She could have sworn they were watching her as she went by.

Rookpaw poked her way through the tunnel, where Thickstripe fixed her with a glare. "I'm just going for a walk."

"Don't be long, don't go far and watch your back." He grunted, looking her up and down. "If you see or scent Spiderstreak out there, let me know…" The senior warrior looked tense. "I'm sure he's gone running back to his rouge pals now he's not Icestar's favourite, but of all the times…" Rookpaw found herself rather disinterested in Spiderstreak's vanishing but nodded lightly and moved off.

The sun was just starting to set, and the light rain that had coated the valley during the fight had eased. The scrub forest around camp had that pleasant damp scent that followed rain, and the ground was slightly spongey underfoot. The clouds were parting, allowing the fiery sunlight to poke through as it began to dip below the horizon. It created a spectacular burning sky as it illuminated the clouds around it. Normally, Rookpaw would find it beautiful. Now it looked more like everything was going to burn down around them.

She wasn't really thinking about where she was going. Her paws led her while her mind stewed, thinking all those unhealthy what-ifs. They should have stayed together. Instead she spaced out just like that old Marshclan cat said, and lost track of them. Why did he do that? Silverpaw was always so damn reckless?! She could feel the fur prickling along her back. She was just barely an apprentice like the rest of them! Cavepaw shouldn't have gotten hurt in her place…. And yet, could Rookpaw say she wouldn't have done the same thing? Her breath hitched; chocking down a sob. And to think this morning she'd been worried about them not being her real family. She felt guilty now for ever thinking such a thing. She didn't care about it anymore. Rookpaw had grown up with them, with Cavepaw. He was her brother.

And here she was walking around stewing instead of being at his side. Maybe this was a mistake. The black she-cat looked up, and suddenly realized where she'd ended up. She was close to the cliffs now, having followed the trail to the catnip patch where she met Rowanfall a few times. Rookpaw blinked. Rowanfall. His feather from earlier had been totally forgotten, but she doubted he was still here. Of course, with the thick catnip scent, there was no way to tell if he'd even been here recently or not. But, it was quiet.

She turned, ready to go back. She needed to go see Cavepaw. She needed to say a few things to him, and hope he heard her… just in case…

"Rookpaw!"

Rowanfall's voice made her jump about a foot in the air, it was so unexpected. "I was just about to leave!" He called to her, and looking up to follow the sound, the young apprentice spotted the tom up at the top of the cliff. He carefully made his way down. "Could you not get away? I was waiting all day but…" His eyes widened as he got closer to her side and must have noticed her scratch. Venompaw hadn't looked at it yet, so it was still obvious with dried blood crusting her fur around it. It was by no means a serious wound, but it seemed to upset Rowanfall. "What happened? Did _he_ hurt you in training?"

Rookpaw blinked, a little taken aback by the undercurrent of aggression beneath the warrior's concern. "No, no… It wasn't Icestar… I. We… We fought Marshclan. That's why I couldn't come…"

Rowanfall's surprise was evident. "A fight?! They took you on a _raid_?!" He shook his head, appearing dismayed. His thick-furred tail swished back and forth. "At your age? It just gets better and better! Next he will be apprenticing 4 moon old kits!"

The warrior's rage did nothing to sooth Rookpaw's anxiety and sorrow. "Cavepaw's really hurt." She sniffed. "Longtail isn't sure he's gonna make it…" Rowanfall froze and turned his attention back to her. His shock was clear.

"Oh Rookpaw, I'm sorry." He offered a light touch of his chin on her shoulder, perhaps a little awkwardly, as if he was unsure. "Longtail's a good medicine cat… I… Cavepaw is in good paws. Offer my hope that he gets better to him, when you see him again." He murmured, worry in his eyes. Of course, though he had not seen Cavepaw since he was a young kit, he was his brother too.

"I will… you should probably know… Sorrelfur is dead too."

The shock was stronger this time, not mingled with the hurt that came from hearing about the fate of a family member, but instead sheer surprise that the ever-collected and competent deputy was gone. He said nothing for a beat. His ear twitched. "How?" Was all he asked.

Rookpaw shuffled uncomfortably. Beneath the shock, there was something working behind Rowanfall's intelligent eyes suddenly, and it worried her. "I didn't see… someone said she fell, fighting the Marshclan deputy in the big tree."

"Hm." The tom grunted, turning away a moment to pace in thought. "It seems so… unlikely, as a way for her to go out." He paused, considering. Rookpaw wondered what he was thinking. Did he feel any kind of grief for the cat that was once his deputy? He didn't look particularly upset. Just… thinking. "I guess that's life." He looked back to Rookpaw. "Who's been chosen as deputy now?"

Rookpaw followed his slow pacing with her eyes. "I don't know. Icestar hasn't come out of his den, at least before I left."

Rowanfall glanced skyward. The sunset had gotten further along. The colourful sky was darkening. "But it's nearly sundown… Is he so broken up about it he's going to betray tradition?" He suddenly let out a single note of low laughter. "I doubt it. He's probably just annoyed he lost something that belonged to him. Or that he _lost_ at all. Throwing a tantrum." Rookpaw didn't know the answer. Her first inclination was to agree with the red tom. Icestar had proven himself to her as a mean-tempered cat. Many in camp often gossiped that his relationship with Sorrelfur was not one of true love, but of mutual benefit and attraction to power. It was all too complicated for Rookpaw, especially at the moment.

Rowanfall's tail twitched, and as he fixed his gaze back on the apprentice, it was sharp. "Rookpaw, I think it's time…" His ears had angled back, and that look of consideration behind his eyes was now a burning, whirling thing. His mind was racing, and his speech became more rapid and hushed to match as he drew closer to her. "This is the perfect chance… I need you to go tell your mother and littermates; warn them and make sure they stay out of the way… Staying in the medicine cat den with Longtail should work... I can make sure you stay safe."

Rookpaw blinked, confused by her elder brother's change of tone. "Time for what? Rowanfall, what do you mean?"

He opened his mouth to reply, but something behind her, over her back, caught his eye instead. They went wide; pupils contracting into slits before they narrowed. His fur raised along his spine, and his stance turned defensive. His words blurred to a hiss in his throat.

Rookpaw whipped around to see what had caused such a reaction and let out a little sound she quickly stifled with surprise. A sinking feeling weighed down into her already heavy gut.

The voice that spoke next held an almost taunting purr. "Oh please, Rowanfall…. Don't stop. Do tell us just what you mean?"

Dappledshade stood with her brother lurking uncertainly behind her; ever the picture of poise, only catlengths away. Her head was lifted high, and her expression was very much the cat who'd caught the mouse.


	30. Chapter 28

"I never would have expected it, really." The lithe she-cat's tone was light, almost conversational. "Rookpaw, I never thought you had it in you! And Rowanfall, such a brazen intrusion, though, I think you've been up to it for quite a while, no?" Cavepaw had once commented on how perceptive Dappledshade seemed. Rookpaw was cursing that talent of her clanmate's right now. "Meeting in the catnip patch is clever, but it's obvious too you know. If you were ever going to have secret meetings, it's exactly the place to expect them!"

Rookpaw might have been frozen by her clanmates sudden appearance, but Rowanfall's reaction was immediate. The tom moved protectively in front of the apprentice, his fur bristling, back already starting to arch defensively. "What do you want, Dappledshade?" He hissed lowly.

"Want?" The she-cat tilted her head very slightly, but her tone spoke of the fact she wasn't really confused. "Many things, some you know, some you don't, my old rival…" Her voice shifted to a very deliberate sort of coyness. She paced around in an arc, tail high, pawsteps soft. "Oh, but of course, _officially _I'm just out here looking for a dear apprentice who needs to scurry back home."

Rowanfall didn't take his eyes off her for a second, and his edginess made Rookpaw not move from behind him. Did he think Dappledshade and Mistheart would attack? She wasn't sure herself… Here she was, meeting with an exiled cat! "I'm not interested in your games." He growled.

"No, for a game, it would have to be _fun_." Dappledshade replied with a scoff, lifting her chin. "And once poking your buttons grew tiresome, well… Let's just say the whole routine got boring." She waved her tail dismissively before looking him up and down. "Seems like you still have your temper. Relax, would you? I'm not going to attack you for Starclan's sake. If I was, I wouldn't have just announced myself, and you should know that as well as anyone."

She looked plainly over to her brother, as if asking for his input.

"She's really not!" He insisted, perking up. He was still looking rather uncomfortable and was lingering on the fringes.

"See, there you go. Mistheart was always a terrible liar, I'm sure you remember."

The exile glanced the colourpoint's way before quickly glaring back to Dappledshade. "Stop talking to me like we're still clanmates. You made your choice very clear on that." Rowanfall narrowed his eyes. "I'll repeat myself. What do you _want_?" Rookpaw looked between the two cats, unsure what to expect, what to do or say. She settled on staying quiet for now. Probably safest… What would Dappledshade do? Was she going to rat them out? Attack? Blackmail?

Dappledshade rolled her eyes. "Are you _still _sore about that? I'm sure you are smart enough to understand what my position was." She let out a little sigh, and her expression grew a touch more serious. "Then again, that tendency of yours to hold a grudge is going to be of use." She lowered her head, glancing around as if making sure nobody was nearby. Her voice dropped to a whisper. "When we get rid of Icestar."

Of all the things Rookpaw was expecting Dappledshade to say, that wasn't really one of them. Rowanfall looked equally surprised. Then again… Rookpaw thought back… She'd seen Dappledshade off talking quietly with Mistheart and Hedgefur, even Venompaw, a few times now. She'd also seemed pretty upset at what had happened today… She'd been distant to Icestar lately. Rookpaw had thought that she was just upset at being suddenly excluded from his very small circle of trust.

Apparently not. Or at least, not exactly just that.

Rowanfall blinked, his defensive posture dropping slightly. "Come again?"

Dappledshade clicked her tongue impatiently. "Keep up, Rowanfall, or I might change my mind about you helping. You want your revenge, right?"

He lifted his head to be level with the she-cat's proud carriage. "Explain. And none of your lies." His tone was still careful but interested. Rookpaw couldn't say she felt any more comfortable now than she did. Meeting Rowanfall and getting caught was bad enough, but now they were straight up talking treason!

"I realized some time ago my loyalty to him was misplaced… I was nothing but Icestar's _pet-"_ The word was spat was fierce venom, and Rookpaw thought she saw a flash of regret in Dappledshade's usually cool eyes. "-warrior. Raised and trained to perfection… He didn't care about me; just like I'm sure he doesn't care about anyone except in how they are of use to him. Did he even really love Sorrelfur? Sure, he's throwing a heck of a tantrum about her death, but I'd bet my next mouse it's more that he had something that was _his_ taken away." The tortoiseshell let out a low scoff, tossing her head slightly.

"We want him gone." Mistheart finally said, very quietly. Rowanfall's eyes flicked to him as the other tom spoke. Mistheart's face was nervous, but Rookpaw could see his mind was made up too. "The clan is going to fall apart … _he's_ falling apart. He's gotten so wound up in his so-called-prophecy… He'll destroy us at this rate."

"Don't mistake me." Dappledshade added curtly, seeing some hesitation still in Rowanfall's body language. "This isn't pure altruism on my part."

"Let me guess… you want to be leader?" Rowanfall's reply to his old rival was equally tart. He inclined his head, ever so slightly. Almost a mockery of a bow of respect.

"Do you have to ask? It was both of our goals when we were younger. To lead. Certainly, I think I could do a better job than the current rabble." She smirked. "Of course, either way, I'd rather my clan be alive and strong than destroyed bit by bit through pointless battles and an unhinged ruler."

"The end of the clan may happen whether Icestar is gone or not." That cryptic reply had Rookpaw turn to look at her big brother. What did that mean? Dappledshade and Mistheart seemed equally interested. "Icestar needs taking care of either way, though. You can hear about it after he's gone." Well that was frustrating. I'll tell you later? Rookpaw sent him a quizzical look, he just blinked slowly at her. Patience.

"So, does that mean you're on board or not?" Dappledshade seemed to be growing impatient.

"I had my own plans anyway, with or without your little coup."

"Which were? Enlighten me."

"A group of warriors from Fernclan would raid the camp. Soon. Not tonight though, it's disrespectful when a vigil needs to be done." Rowanfall flicked one ear, and it made Rookpaw wonder if it was through agitation, or nerves. She was sure nervous! The others could likely smell fear scent coming off her. This whole thing was crazy! And a bad idea! And yet, she found herself just sitting there quietly, not at all protesting. Did… did she really want to get rid of Icestar that badly too? The more she thought about it; about his cruelty to her, about what had happened today… Her mouth stayed shut.

"And? You think a single raiding party can take down the clan while we are weak from the fight with Marshclan? A touch unoriginal for you, Rowanfall."

Rowanfall narrowed his eyes at Dappledshade's dismissive tone. "Well, you and your fellow rebels can strike too; the confusion would be useful. I don't actually intend for there to be much of an all-out brawl anyway."

The she-cat curled her lip. "Meaning? Spit it out already, will you? I never had much patience for your dramatic timing."

Rowanfall lifted his head a little higher, his tail too. A confident posture. He met Dappledshade's lip curl with one of his own, though Rookpaw was certain it was not directed at her, but the one that drew his true ire. "I intend to _challenge_ Icestar. Under the old laws of Gorseclan… one on one."

Rookpaw blinked up at the tom, horrified. So that was why he wanted to find out more about it from the elders through her! She had wondered, but had hoped… "Rowanfall, no!" She hissed lowly to him. It was so risky!

"A challenge?" Mistheart spoke up over her, drawing her brother's attention away. The colourpoint's brow was furrowing with confusion.

"I remember an elder tale of it. They were used to settle disputes long ago…" Dappledshade glanced at her brother and then back to Rowanfall. "And if he refuses?"

"He can't. No true Gorseclan cat can. He'd be shamed; it's a forfeit of pride and power. Starclan and the clan would not consider him a fit leader after."

"And if he wins?"

"Then he'll kill me, and he'll be your problem after that." Rookpaw nudged him in further protest, glaring at him. He sent her a little gentle shove back, expression reassuring before looking back over to the others. He wasn't listening! "But he won't win; I've been preparing for this moment for moons. I just need the chance to challenge him officially; pin him down for all the clan to see."

"I think it's a stupid idea." Dappledshade snorted bluntly. "It would be far easier if several of us went for him at once. He's damn strong to face alone, and smarter than he looks."

"I know."

"So, don't do it."

"I have to."

"There's safer ways to get your revenge, moron." The she-cat shook her head, then let out a little sigh and lifted her paw as Rowanfall opened his mouth to continue arguing. "But I get it… For everything he's done… You want to do it yourself, right?" She looked him in the eye for a long stare, icy blue into deep green. He met it strongly. He didn't seem like he was going to change his mind.

Dappledshade let out a long purring laugh but nodded at the end of it. "Fine, but let me take a good chunk out of him first, okay?" Rookpaw had no doubt she was dead serious about that. "Now, we'd better get back. I was sent out here to find Rookpaw because Icestar was finally going to call a clan meeting. We'll be late."

"No wait!" Rookpaw finally found her voice for real, standing up. Her tail flicked nervously, and her ears were flat. "You guys… can't- can't just go and… This is treason!"

"Can't? Rookpaw really, don't be silly." Dappledshade turned those sharp eyes of hers onto the young cat, and it took a lot of Rookpaw to not flinch. Even when she wasn't being cold or mean, and her voice was almost kind, Dappledshade was an intimidating cat. "You're his apprentice, so I know for a fact you know as well as anyone that his nature isn't befitting of a leader. You even went with him to that pit of rouges he calls allies! He's harsh on you, right? He's losing his grip, right?" Rookpaw found herself nodding mutely. "Exactly." The tortoiseshell huffed. "A cat like him has no business in charge of our clan."

"I know, but… I don't want you to get hurt, and…" She glanced back at Rowanfall, who was looking on with a gentle concern. "It still seems wrong. It's against the warrior code, right?"

Dappledshade's tail twitched, just once in a single snapping motion. "Then we need to know if you are going to be a problem." Her tone shifted back to one more brusque and she started to become more of a looming presence over Rookpaw.

"Dappledshade." Rowanfall had taken a step forward, face setting and his voice was warning.

The she-cat ignored him. "What's it going to be, Rookpaw? You need to decide right now who's side you are on. You don't want to get involved? Fine, you can hide away all you like, but if you are going to get in our way…" The threat was implied, and it made Rookpaw shrink back a bit.

"Dappledshade!"

Rowanfall had moved between them. The she-cat looked him up and down, then rolled her eyes. "Hmph. Venompaw seemed to think you might be helpful; guess he was wrong. Whatever. Guess you got brainwashed too." The way the warrior said it made Rookpaw feel stupid, and she lowered her head. Dappledshade's eyes moved to the tom blocking her way. "As long as she stays quiet."

Rowanfall glanced back at Rookpaw but stayed firmly placed protectively in the way. "She will. Let me talk to her for a second."

"Fine, but she better hurry back to camp, or it will be both our asses." Dappledshade brushed her tail teasingly along Rowanfall's tense check, grin like a razor-sharp claw shifting onto her face. "Raid with you later, Red." Rowanfall growled, but the tortoiseshell was already slipping away like an eel into the darkening scrub, Mistheart on her heels.

"We'll be back tomorrow morning!" The tom called back as his tail vanished. "Better meet us here!" Or Dappledshade would be after him, no doubt.

Rowanfall watched for a moment until the cracks of brush ceased, and the two were gone. "Hey, don't mind her…" He said softly as he turned back to Rookpaw. "She's always been... difficult."

"I'm not being stupid… or a coward." She sniffed up at him, feeling shittier than she had been before she got here now. "Am I?"

"There's nothing wrong with being loyal to the code, Rookpaw." He replied softly, nosing her. "And I don't blame you for wanting to fight either… But you understand why you can't say anything, right?"

She rubbed her snout with a paw. "Yeah… I guess."

"One of the others will let you know when it's going to happen. You can do something important for me, and take your mother and your siblings and keep them in the medicine cat den, okay? You can protect them for me."

She didn't really care about Icestar. She truthfully was more worried about more of her clan getting hurt, and Rowanfall… "Please don't fight him by yourself." Cavepaw was on the edge. The idea she might loose both of them… "Please, Rowanfall."

"I have to."

"Why?!" She retorted, finding her own temper and batting his nose away, though not roughly. "Why does it have to be you? I wish I'd never told you about those stupid duels!" She wished she'd never had the vision that led to her being able to find out about them in the first place!

The tom seemed unmoved to change his mind by her emotional outburst, though there was understanding in his eyes as he stood to leave, running his bushy tail across her body gently in farewell. "Because I have to make something right."


	31. Chapter 29

_**A/N: Apologies for the long break only to post a breather chapter! Hopefully won't be nearly as long till the next one!**_

**CHAPTER 29**

The moon was rising, and Leopardtail was still marveling at the fact they weren't all a bunch of corpses right now. Well, or prisoners; but being a prisoner in Gorseclan with the clan destroyed… Might as well be dead. Probably would be preferable too.

She'd barely moved since the Gorseclan raiding party had left camp. Thunderstream had checked her over with a sure scolding for acting half her age, but she was fine enough. Just exhausted. Oakfur and Barkfoot had been retrieved from their hiding spot safe and sound, though Oakfur was confused and frightened. The kits were scared, but alive and unharmed. Some of them were wounded; a couple quite badly so, but they'd all live. Thunderstream had her work cut out for her, but they'd live. By some miracle of Starclan. They'd be okay.

Mouseheart had broken the news about Ratapelt in her stead while she rested. She had seen the pain; the scrunch of the nose that spoke of the torn heart of their leader as Bogstar told the rest of the clan. She watched her clan mourn his unexpected loss after tasting victory in their survival. She saw the fear of the twolegs, who did indeed to seem to be out to get them. Another warrior gone. As she'd looked over them, grieving without a body to give a proper vigil tonight, Leopardtail became uncomfortably aware how small their ranks were becoming. They couldn't afford to lose another grown warrior.

Perhaps Bogstar had noticed too.

Her eyes found the little white leader making his way back up onto the stump that was where he addressed the clan; covered in salves to sooth his wounds from Icestar, his feather proudly placed in his mane. The second was gone now, as Thunderstream's had been returned to her after the battle. What was he doing now? Surely there was little more to add. Could they not have a moment of peace?

"Cats of Marshclan." He began, his voice clearly showing his own weariness, despite his attempts to keep it strong… Such a deep tone he had, for a little thing. "Before we begin Ratapelt's vigil under the stars, I would like to attend to one more matter of business…"

The cats sitting in the clearing around the stump blinked up at him, looking confused and worn. They were all so tired. She could see the guarded way they gave their leader attention. They feared more bad news. In truth, Leopardtail couldn't remember the last time they had _good_ news. The birth of the young kits?

"His apprentice will need a new mentor…" He inclined his head towards Windpaw, though they barely seemed to hear him as she stared blankly towards him, giving a little sniff. Of course, Ratapelt's apprentice would be one of those hit hardest by his loss. "I have discussed this with Blackbird, and we have decided that Kakawing will be Windpaw's new mentor." The she-cat mentioned perked up, twitching her torn ear. "Do you accept?"

"Yes, of course." The warrior replied solemnly, standing. Her tail flicked with a gentle warmth towards Windpaw, drawing near her.

Bogstar inclined his head slightly towards the pair. "Kakawing you are a capable and inventive warrior, I hope that you will pass on all you know to Windpaw for the remainder of her training, in Ratapelt's stead."

Kakawing didn't reply verbally this time, only returning Bogstar's dip of the head with her own, before touching noses with Windpaw. She didn't seem as enthusiastic about all this. Leopardtail was sure the young she-cat would rather just have her old mentor back.

Bogstar watched them move back into their places in the clan. His gaze swept over them. "There is much to discuss about what has happened, and how our clan will move forward." He heaved a great sigh, enough that Leopardtail could see his ribs shift under his white pelt still smeared with mud and blood from the battle. He was a small cat, but he somehow looked smaller. "But that is not for tonight. Tonight, we reflect and pay our respects to Ratapelt's spirit. Even while his body is somewhere else, he will be here with us before he moves on to Starclan; let him hear and see our love for him."

The meeting adjourned, the cats began to move about. Marshclan cats had their own take on paying their respects to a fallen cat, as all the clans did, she was sure. Of course, she had never been privy to that private affair elsewhere. Normally, if they had the body, it would sit pride of place in the centre of camp; nestled gently in moss and fern and fur tinged in the sweet scent of various marsh flowers as the petals decorate their fur. As it stood, the traditional nest had been replaced with a single head of flax flowers. There, members of the clan placed prey; an offering to Ratapelt to feed him on his journey to Starclan and show appreciation for his life. In times of plenty, the prey would be given by every cat. In the lean times, only those closest to him typically gifted prey, though all would approach and say their goodbyes. Then, they would all share tongues and offer stories about the deceased; good memories. That night, the closest to them would sit with them overnight in vigil. In the morning they would take them to be buried; an elder to say a traditional piece over the grave. She hoped she wasn't chosen for that…

Leopardtail dropped a sparrow in front of the flowerhead, as Windpaw padded away after leaving a mouse. She wasn't particularly close to the tom or anything, but… "I'm sorry." She murmured, hoping he would hear her and forgive her for not saving him. She wasn't sure if she believed in any of this stuff, but on this occasion… She hoped she was wrong and that he could hear. He was sensible… He'd forgive her. She was sure. He'd forgive her. She touched a nose to the nearest flax flower, it's slightly bitter scent wafting in. Those twolegs… It made her claws unsheathe and her face grow tense. Knowing this was not an enemy she could just go and fight… It was so frustrating.

Leopardtail padded off to let someone else have their turn at paying respects. It was time to go sit with her son and share tongues quietly; speak of fonder memories of their lost clanmate. She needed to get the image of Ratapelt shrieking at them to help him as the twolegs bore down out of her head. Maybe the young cats would think of something; something to get rid of them, and deal with Gorseclan both… She was getting too old for this shit.


End file.
